


Starring Bruce Wayne as The Batman

by CompassUniverse



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Author is only vaguely familiar with Batman Canon, Bruce Wayne is Suspicious, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Dynamics, Gen, Inspired by Tumblr Posts, Jason Todd Laughs, Metahumans, Other, Revised Version, The Butts Match, for one chapter, it's back!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:13:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26900452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompassUniverse/pseuds/CompassUniverse
Summary: INT. OFFICE - EVENINGGORDON (Milo V. get contact info) sits at desk. (see about photos of inside office?) A shadow passes the window. The lights flicker. Enter BATMAN (Bruce Wayne? Send letter.)(meet bat for info?)Alice knows that it's unlikely. She knows that it's ridiculous. But, hey, can it really hurt to ask Bruce Wayne to play Batman in her final project?The rewrite! You do not need to read the first one to enjoy this one!
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Original Character/Original Character, assorted friendships
Comments: 62
Kudos: 52





	1. A Meeting of Much Importance

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I'm not sure who is still around but I'm back! Yay! I have a lot of it rewritten already and I'm going to do my best to keep a semi-regular update schedule. I hope you enjoy the updated (but not super different) Chapter One!

It was dark out, darker than it usually was when Alice was coming back from the library, and even though it wasn’t raining Alice kept her pace a little faster than she normally walked as she made her way back to the apartment complex. She hadn’t intended to be out so late, but she’d gotten caught up in her work and hadn’t realized what time it was until her best friend texted to make sure she’d gotten back to her apartment safely.

One of her earbuds swung freely, letting her keep an ear on the street while Clementine, the aforementioned best friend, chattered in her other ear to make sure that there was a witness if Alice got murdered. If Alice was a little more morbid, she might have been wishing for death instead of being subjected to Clementine’s ethics textbook.

As it was, Alice contented herself with chewing on the metal cap of her pen and studying the packet in her hands. It was only the first twenty minutes or so of the script, but she always struggled with introductions and it was hard to tell if the lines were good or if her friends had just told her that they were good to make her stop asking. Of course, if she suggested that to Clementine there would be at least an hour of scolding before Clem just called her boyfriend and had him be emotional and sad while Clementine herself fumed.

Alice smiled faintly around the pen. She had good friends. She was glad that she’d come to Gotham. Central City was well and good, but there were too many people there that Alice never wanted to talk to again if she could help it and the only friend she _did_ want to keep could get to her in a flash – ha – if she asked.

So. Her script was _fine._ She had managed to get statements from every Gotham University student about Batman, an easy task when there was a relatively small population almost entirely filled with native Gothamites and a campus wide email, but…it was hard to actually get the Bat’s demeanor. Especially if Alice tried picking random points in his history. He’d been tagged The Dark Knight for a reason.

Veronica had said that he had a lot of gusto in his fights and seemed to draw them out for fun, but Declan had said that he just swooped in and out, almost faster than he could track. And they’d both seen him within the same month. Maybe he liked being enigmatic and mysterious and changed things to keep them on their toes?

Frankly, the foreshadowing was the worst part. It had to actually be believable that Gotham’s dark hero was the charismatic and vocal Bruce Wayne. Of course, she probably didn’t have a chance at actually getting Bruce Wayne involved, but Clementine knew a guy that looked like a younger Bruce Wayne, so Alice was planning on having him as the protagonist. She needed to remember to get his number from Clementine. She was in the middle of a passage, but once she stopped for breath Alice could remind her to text her his contact information.

Alice turned the corner and two steps in, the earring not partially blocked by the earbud strings brushed against her neck as it completed a swing that her motion had started. Alice slowed slightly, scanning the street and battered sidewalk. Glass shards glinted on the edges of one of the streetlight’s range. The light after that one wasn’t working.

She swiftly started moving again, shifting her grip on the pen and tucking the script under her arm. With her other hand she reached up to her left earring and unhooked the samurai shaped charm from the metal stud. She had actually purchased the set she was wearing at the moment a long time ago, little metal samurai that looked like they were made of origami, and she made a matching set for Clementine once they became close enough friends that such an idea didn’t make Alice feel the usual static blankness that set in when such things were even suggested around others.

“Clem—”

A hand clamped over Alice’s mouth, pulling her head back until she could feel a beard scratching the side of her face. A low voice whispered, “Shh, babe, don’t want to cause a-agh!”

Alice jammed the pen into his side, maybe right around his ribs. She slammed her foot down and wrenched her head back at the same time, connecting with something with both of the blows, and twisted free as soon as the grip on her loosened, breaking into a run. The one she’d struck shouted furiously after her and the heavy pounding of footsteps chased after her.

“Shit! Alice, I’m calling the cops, okay? You by West? Where are you?” Clem demanded.

“West, heading toward Twilight and Eleventh,” Alice confirmed, fumbling with her other earring now that her hand was free of her pen. Damn. She’d liked that pen. Maybe it had actually broken skin and was stuck in his side. There was definitely a poem about blood and ink to be made, there, but she’d never been that into poetry, much less ones that revolved around blood.

“The fuck are you doing? Don’t let her get away!” another voice barked, which meant there were at least two.

Sometimes, Alice wished she hadn’t taken a gap year after her parent’s accident. Gotham University had offered the best scholarship before and after and she had planned on attending GU anyway, but there had been some of the lowest crime rates in what could have been her first year and it had only gone up afterward. That was what happened when Red Hood stopped scaring people to death. Or just shooting them to death…scaring was more Scarecrow’s thing anyway.

“Okay, Drake’s got them on the line. How you doing?” Clementine asked, reminding Alice of who she might not have had if she had started college in the right year.

“Track team hasn’t failed me yet,” Alice replied, which was quickly proven wrong when a hand closed around the hood of her jacket and yanked her back. Her left earring flew at her attacker but Alice didn’t try to track it, hastily pulling on her jacket’s zipper even as the man shouted in alarm.

She slipped free once again, dropping her script and losing her jacket in the process, and Alice realized a moment too late that her phone was gone with the jacket. Her moment of hesitation was rewarded by someone grabbing onto her hair pin, a fancy, costume-jewelry clip. Joke was on him, though, because he yanked once and it fell out of her hair like it always did, even on a day when Alice hadn’t been wearing it for almost sixteen hours straight. Her other earring went with it, to more shouting and creative swearing.

Alice didn’t try to grab her script or phone, focusing once more on creating distance between them. It wouldn’t be fun to replace her phone, but she was pretty sure she was insured against standard mugging. As long as they weren’t involved with a legitimate villain, she should be able to get a new one. At least her keys to the apartment were in her hip purse and not her coat like Clem carried hers. It occurred to her that Halloween was coming up and she would need to check her insurance for those villains. She was always insured against the Joker, since he just didn’t stay arrested, or dead on the, like, one occasion that had happened, but some of the others were more hit or miss.

Alice almost tripped as she abruptly remembered, _right, Batman is actually a thing_ , and promptly screamed like she was at a One Direction concert. That analogy might not work, since she was pretty sure One Direction had broken up and she’d only even gone to one concert with, as Clementine called her ex, She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but one of the men she’d left behind shouted about shutting her up so she opted not to worry about the band or the unpleasant memories it would be forever associated with and simply run.

Her cardio routine was still pretty solid, even without being in competitive sports, but Alice was running out of air. She stopped screaming in order to breathe again, lifting her eyes to scan the rooftops. A shadow moved on the roof, not exactly Bat shaped, but, really, who else hung out on rooftops? If it wasn’t him, it was one of the others.

Alice lowered her head and ran. She had hated breathing exercises when she was younger, but she had always understood them. Now, she appreciated them.

A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side. She was out of earrings and pens, but her elbows were perfectly pointy. Before she could make a move, the hand released her and a flash of red darted by. Alice did the dumb thing and whipped around to watch as Red Hood, _Red Hood_ , lunged at the three men, pulling out a gun and firing three shots in rapid succession. The men dropped and didn’t move again. Fast and efficient. Noted. Or it would have been if she had her script.

“Are they dead?” Alice asked, taking another step closer.

He turned back at her voice; if he was surprised to see her, he didn’t let it show. Wearing a bucket on his head would do that. Whoever played him, Alice would have to figure out how to keep them from moving like a Power Ranger. “No,” he answered. “Just unconscious.”

“Okay. I’m going back for my stuff, then.” A glint of metal on one of the men caught her eye and she made sure to step closest to that one when she passed. Her earring snagged easily onto her pant leg and Alice huffed out a breath, blowing powder-blonde hair from her face.

“You should get inside,” Hood said, a step behind her. “It’s dangerous to be out this late.”

“And it’s dangerous to be out without my phone, which is back there.” Alice pointed to where she could see a lump that was probably her coat. It was closer than it should have been, but she suspected that was only because the other earring was under it. “Besides, if my script isn’t ruined—” She stopped, eyes widening, and turned back to Red Hood. “You’re Red Hood.”

He paused, then rested one hand on his hip and drawled, “It took you that long to realize?”

Alice grinned. “If you’re Red Hood…can I get a sound byte?"

Hood’s head tilted ever so slightly. “Excuse me?”

“If I can record your voice, I can make the actor sound like you. Well, Clem can. She’s my sound manager.” Alice gasped, her hands twisting together. “How would you feel about reading my script? I have no _clue_ what Batman sounds like. I mean, honestly, it seems like I’m the only person in Gotham that hasn’t met the man.”

“You aren’t missing much,” Hood said slowly. “You’re a film student?”

“Yep!” Alice stuck out her hand. “Alice Elroy.”

Hood looked down at her hand, exaggerating it with the angle of his helmet. Interesting. Maybe it would be realistic if the actor went Power Ranger mode. He didn’t shake her hand.

Alice withdrew, stepping backward to collect her things. Sure enough, her other earring was in her coat sleeve. The samurai was sprawled across her pen, which did not look like it had been used to stab a man. Must not have broken skin, then. Alice wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but she decided to be relieved and not consider the alternatives as she lifted her coat and pulled it back on, clipping the pen to the script and both earrings back to the studs.

“How about it?” she asked when she turned back to find Red Hood still there. “Just a few sentences, maybe some of the lines. You don’t have a lot because I couldn’t get much information on you, but—”

“You’re making a movie about Batman?” he asked.

“Yeah! It’s a comedy!”

“Who’s the Bat?”

Alice grinned. “The butts match.”

Red Hood was silent for a long, long minute. Then he doubled over laughing. Alice checked her script, but it seemed that the lack of rain had been an unexpected boon and it was undamaged. Her phone was fine, too, thanks to the case, but Clementine had sent her a dozen texts.

She fitted the earbud back into her ear and was rewarded by the muted sound of Drake’s voice, focused and calm in the way that Alice had only ever heard him a few times before, while Clementine was saying, “How long do they say it’ll be?”

“Hey, Clem,” Alice said, and both voices stopped. “I’m okay. Red Hood showed.”

Clementine gasped loudly, sniffled, and then ordered, “You’d better get him to give you a sound byte. Don’t scare me like that!”

“No worries,” Alice assured her. “Drake, you got her if I hang up?”

“Yeah, I got her,” Drake replied almost immediately.

“I’m sending Thai over to your place,” Clementine declared, like a threat. “Bribe Hood with free food.”

“I’ll tell him you said thank you,” Alice agreed, and hung up before Clementine could protest.

Red Hood wasn’t laughing as loudly anymore, watching Alice, and when she looked at him, he asked, “So, Wayne is the Bat?”

“Yep,” she replied, popping the P. “I think it will work, seeing how it made you laugh.”

Hood waved a hand. “Anything at his expense makes me laugh. Trust me.”

Alice started to make a mental note of that, but caught herself when she realized the ambiguity. Did he have something against Bruce Wayne, or was it about the Bat? An interesting characterization either way, but assuming one way or the other risked glaring inaccuracies.

Instead of asking about it, she said, “My friend is sending Thai food to my apartment, if you want to come with me for the fancy recording stuff, but I have my phone right here, too.”

Hood laughed again. “You serious? Don’t you know I’m dangerous?”

“So’s Batman,” Alice drawled. “I’d be inviting him along, too, if I had to opportunity. The same would be true for any of the Bats. Course, I’d need to actually _see_ one of them, for that. Besides. Free food.”

“ _You’re_ the college kid; you should be the one getting baited with free food!”

“Does that mean you have food?”

He laughed. Alice was starting to think he would hurt himself if he kept that up. He laughed with his whole body, laughed like if he didn’t show off all of his amusement in that very moment he might never get another chance to. “You know what? Sure. I was craving Thai anyway. Let’s go.”

Alice brightened immediately. “Great! While we walk, can I ask some questions?”

Red Hood snorted, but fell into step beside her. Alice tried to memorize his outfit. “No, you can’t see behind the mask.”

It was hard not to physically recoil at the idea. Instead, Alice braced her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “No duh. What’s your relationship with the Bat? What got you working together? I heard that you were cleaning up crime, and what you were doing was _working_ , and then you changed it up. Rubber bullets. No more boxes of heads. Did you actually mail someone’s head in?”

“It’s hard to tell what’s rumor and what isn’t,” Hood chuckled, and blatantly did not answer. “The Bat…he’s like an overprotective dad.”

Alice tipped her head. “But the Robins are always in trouble.”

“Yeah, sure, until they do something he doesn't like, and then he comes swooping in. It's always a big ordeal."

Alice wrote _dad-mode?_ on her paper. "So...what changed? With you? Why'd you stop? What you were doing, it was working."

Hood grunted. "He went," he leaned over to look at her paper, "dad-mode on me."

She hummed, idly circling the Red Hood lines in that part of the script. “How would you describe your relationship with Robin?”

“Which one?”

Fair. Alice swayed back on her heels in the next step, then answered, “Red Robin, the current Robin, and Nightwing, who I _think_ was a Robin before Red Robin. It lines up. Was he?”

Once again, Red Hood ignored the question. “Nightwing’s about as dad as Bats, frankly. Maybe he’s a little bit better, but then he’s all, brother knows best. But he’s chill. Replacement, uh, R.R., is alright. Yeah. He’s okay. Bit of a showboat. Works too much. Baby Bat is a fuckin’ demon.”

_Brother,_ Alice wrote by Nightwing’s first line, though it was more for herself than for the script, and she doodled a scowling face by Robin’s name. She hesitated at Red Robin’s name, tapping her pen against it. “Replacement?” she finally echoed.

“Yeah.”

“Who’d he replace?”

Red Hood raised a shoulder at her and didn’t answer.

Alice considered it, then pushed, “It’s interesting that there are two Red’s working with the Bat. You and him. You came first, though, right?”

“Damn straight.”

Alice did not write _Replacement_. There was more to that topic than she wanted to address, because as far as she knew, the Robin that had been Red Robin _had_ come before Red Hood. It was also known that Hood actively went after him, in the beginning. It would go in the box of things that she didn’t want to know. Like where the Rogues hung out in between being Rogues. She was content to have realized shortly after playing darts with someone named James that she had just been playing darts with Trickster, and then never thought about that particular bar or why her friend had brought her there.

She never had gotten revenge for that, and he had been inexplicably smug for almost a month afterward.

“Who’ve you got playin’ us, anyway?” Hood asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Alice blinked at him, taking a moment to get back on track. “Well, you aren't cast yet,” she admitted. “You’re kind of violent, even in this, and anyone who seems interested is a little…too eager. Batgirl is Clementine and her boyfriend, Drake, is Nightwing. Red Robin is Lily, who’s in one of Clem’s classes, and Black Bat is from one of my classes last year, June. I think she just wants an excuse to sit around and play on her phone but get free food, but that’s okay. We don’t have a Robin, yet, since we’re trying to be a little accurate and it’s hard finding kids that it’d be okay to work with.”

Hood snorted again. “What about the Bat? The main man?”

Alice hesitated. “Okay, I know this is a big ask since this seems to be how you’ve spent most of your time with me, but…you can’t laugh.”

“I might actually die,” Hood said seriously.

Alice couldn’t help a snicker that slipped out. “Okay, okay. So, uh, we have a guy that Clem knows who’s probably going to be it that I think we’re meeting with tomorrow, but…” She pushed her hair back, focusing on her script. “I’m kind of hoping to get the actual Bruce Wayne to do it. It’d just be fun, you know, so he probably wouldn’t, and why would he? It’s not like I can pay him, and he’s rich so no need for free food, but it seems to perfect!”

She pivoted in front of her building to face Red Hood, who shifted back a step, giving her room. “Just, picture it. I can set up all of these hints, and if it’s not Bruce Wayne I could just have my teacher, who’s playing Alfred, say, ‘welcome home, Master Wayne,’ and then cut to black, but if it _is_ Bruce Wayne, the camera could pan to his face and he could pull off the mask and say, ‘the butts really do match’ and _then_ it cuts to credits. Wouldn’t that be better?”

For a moment, Hood didn’t answer. He didn’t laugh, either. Finally, he said, “That is the best idea ever.”

Alice almost dropped her script. “Really? You think so? Do you think it would bother Batman?”

“Who cares? It’s comedy! Everyone will love it.”

Alice grinned, turning back to the apartment and swiping into the building. “That means a lot, coming from you,” she admitted, holding it open for him.

“Best idea ever,” Hood repeated, stepping in and then following her up the steps. When she unlocked her own door, still giddy from _Red Hood’s_ praise, he asked, “How did the food beat us here?”

Alice looked around to where three bags sat on her table. “Clem built a drone. She probably ordered it to her place and delivered it herself.”

“How’d it get in?”

“Dog door in the window.” Alice set down her script and hooked her coat on the chair, kicking her shoes off to the side of the door.

“A dog…window.”

Alice nodded. “I installed it because the drone is afraid of storms.” She pulled a container out of the bag, breathing in the scent of heavily buttered rice and egg.

Hood stopped just inside the door. “Afraid of storms.”

Alice faltered, realizing what she had said, but then shrugged casually. “Yeah. Clem lets it go for flights sometimes, so we both have a way for it to get in if it starts raining. Hey, how do you eat? Does that thing have a food slot?”

“I’m not _actually_ going to eat your food,” he huffed, finally stepping inside and going to look at the unused planner on her fridge. Her parents had gotten it for her and Alice had thanked them, magnetized it to her fridge, and promptly forgotten its existence.

Alice considered protesting, then realized that it meant she would have more leftovers and shrugged. “Okay.” She grabbed her computer and hooked it to Clementine’s recorder, which was fancy enough that Alice only knew how to make sure it was on and recording. “Can you read some of the circled lines, please?”

Hood turned away from the fridge. “Sure. How’re you getting in touch with Wayne, anyway?”

Alice glanced up from the machine. “I wrote a letter. It’s pretty short, just because I figured he’s probably really busy. I’m going to stop by the post office tomorrow to send it.”

“How’d you get his address?” He sat down across from her, picking up the script and letting out a snort when he read the first page. “Nice. Batgirl would totally say this.”

Alice grinned. “Thanks. And I just addressed it to Wayne Manor.”

Hood chuckled. “Fair. I can deliver it, if you want.”

Alice hesitated. “Is that legal?”

Hood shrugged. “Not if I don’t get caught.” He paused, then added, “Don’t worry. I’d do it right. I want this as much as you do, honestly.”

Alice smiled despite herself. “Alright, then. Thank you.”

Hood waved a dismissive hand. “This thing on?” He reached for the machine but Alice beat him to it, swiftly turning it on. Hood didn’t protest, beginning to read in a casual voice before he paused, flipped a page, and then started again in a dramatic tone that would have fit Shakespearean prose.

Alice pressed her hands to her mouth, shoulders trembling. Clementine was going to _love_ this.

* * *

Bruce frowned at the crisp white envelope sitting on his desk. His name was written on the back, and only his name, in a script that suggested the writer was trying very hard to make the address legible. He knew that Alfred hadn’t placed the letter there, or he would have been told about it.

Slowly, he stepped forward and examined it. There was no trace of anyone else in his office. The window was locked, the alarms active and unhacked, his chair, and everything on his desk, where it should be.

In what might have been a lapse of judgement, Bruce picked it up. Nothing happened. He opened it slowly. He raised an eyebrow when all that was inside was a packet of paper. He pulled the paper free, ready to reach for a gas mask or antitoxin or anything of the sort, but nothing continued to happen.

He unfolded the paper.

_Dear Mr. Wayne,_

_My name is Alice. I am a senior at Gotham University and for my final project, I am composing a comedic short film about Batman’s history in Gotham. If you would be willing, I would be honored to have you play the role of Batman._

_While the full script is still undergoing editing, it is complete and I would be able to shoot all of Batman’s scenes at one time. I understand that you are a busy man and I am grateful for what you have done for the community, as well as what Batman has done. I have attached all of Batman’s lines, and if you were willing to record any of them, or even just the last one, my production team and I would be more than grateful._

_Sincerely,_

_Alice C. Vertur_

_Gotham University East Campus Suites, Room 208_

_247-613-5612_

Bruce stared at the letter for a moment, then lifted his head and scanned the room for a camera. When he saw no signs of one, or anything odd, he flipped the packet over and skimmed to the end. An undignified snort burst from him, lips ticking upward against his will. “The butts really do match?”


	2. A Meeting of Unknown Importance

“He _what_?” Clementine demanded.

Alice grinned. “All of them. We’ll have to edit out some of his laughing, and he kept giving me these _looks_ even though his head was covered so I might be talking in a few, but all of them.”

Clementine linked their hands and pulled Alice in a bouncing circle. “This is even better than that time Scarecrow gassed all the teachers and we got to pass our finals!”

Alice nodded, smiling at the memory. That had gotten her out of one of her common core mathematics exams. Alice wasn’t bad at math, but she and that professor…disagreed strongly on the freedom of solving methods. He wanted one way, and one way only. “Oh! That reminds me, he offered to deliver the letter to Bruce Wayne.”

Clementine made another grab for Alice and grabbed a passerby instead. She hastily released him, not looking away from Alice as she breathed, “Holy shit, Alice, Red Hood is the best.”

“I’ve been saying that since we met,” Alice pointed out. “When you want things to get done right, you either do it yourself or you tell Red Hood to do it.”

Clementine snorted. “That is a _terrible_ motto.”

“But is it wrong?” Alice nudged Clementine forward, eyeing the line in front of the coffee shop. Normally they were there earlier, but there had been some Red Hood related distraction. All the same, Clementine wanted the caffeine and Alice wanted the sugar. She wasn’t sure if she was going to get a frappuccino or a danish, though. Maybe both.

“Have you gotten in touch with the realistic Batman?” she asked, turning back to Clem. “He still meeting us today?”

“Who, Richard? Yeah, and he said he’s in. He can do some stunts, too, if you want.” Clementine pulled out her phone, either at a thought or a notification Alice hadn’t heard, and started typing. “He used to be a gymnast or something in a traveling circus.”

“Really?” Alice hooked her thumbs in her pockets. “That’d be cool. Maybe we will. Maybe we’ll go with Veronica’s description of the Bat, then.” She stepped forward in the line, tugging Clementine with her.

“Richard says he’s almost here,” Clementine reported, dropping her phone back into her purse. “Think you’ll be able to make pie for movie night?”

Alice shrugged. “Sure. I might use some pre-made stuff for the crust—” Clementine whined dramatically, “—but I’ve got some time.”

“Cherry?” Clementine blinked hopefully.

“Apple. You’re the only one of us who likes cherry pie, Clem.”

Clementine huffed. “You and Drake are always ganging up on me. Tea drinkers, apple pie lovers, what else is there? What else haven’t you been telling me?”

Alice shut her mouth, then winced when her teeth clicked together audibly. Clementine’s eyes widened. Alice pointedly pressed her lips together and looked away.

“Alice,” she breathed. “Alice, what? What is it? What do you know?”

“Hey, look, the line sure is moving,” Alice said, like that would make it true.

“What is it?” Clementine grabbed onto her shoulders, slumping all of her weight on Alice. “Does he hate puppies? Does he eat babies? What _is_ it?”

Alice hesitated, glancing around. Clementine leaned closer, until their noses were almost touching and Alice could see the flecks of yellow in her green eyes.

“Tell me,” she whispered.

Alice cast one more look around them, then whispered back, “He hates olives.”

Clementine let out a feral screech, wheeling backward, and Alice pressed a hand to her mouth like it could stifle her giggles. Clementine flung up her arms, shouting, “Betrayal! I have been betrayed! The ultimate evil!” She swung her arm down to point at Alice, her own samurai earrings swinging with the motion. “I demand pie as recompense.”

“No.”

Clementine slumped. “Cake?”

Alice considered it. “Maybe.”

“With ice cream?”

“As long as it’s not chocolate or strawberry.” Alice paused, seeing the light in her friend’s eyes, and added, “Or chocolate _and_ strawberry.”

Clementine’s cheeks puffed outward and she slumped against Alice again. “You’re so mean. I’m going to _die_ if I don’t get something sweet. You don’t want me to die, do you?”

Alice opened her mouth to reply but another voice beat her to it, amusement lacing his tone as he said, “That sounds like a strange and tragic disease.”

Clementine straightened and Alice turned, gaze tracking Clementine as she bounded over to the speaker and flung her arms around him. “Richard! Alice, this is my friend, Richard!”

Alice studied him, comparing his build to the pictures of the Bat she had been able to find. “He could fit it very nicely; Julie wouldn’t have much trouble getting him a costume,” she mused, then blinked and held out a hand. “Alice. Clem tells me you’d be interested in playing Batman?”

“I definitely would,” Richard replied easily, eyes glittering with humor as he shook her hand. “I think I can act the part; I’ve met him more than once.” Someone behind him snorted but he continued, “You and Clementine have a class together, or are you just friends?”

“Lived together in first year and some mixed classes that kept us together,” Alice replied smoothly. She looked behind him and found two more men, both of whom appeared to be in desperate need of the coffee that Alice and Clementine were waiting for. One of them had significantly darker shadows in his eyes, but it was the other one who caught Alice’s attention.

She stepped to the side to get a better view of him, half-listening as Clementine asked Richard if he was still giving self-defense classes. He had a white streak in his hair that made him stand out a little more and he seemed to notice her appraisal immediately, raising a questioning eyebrow as she considered him.

“Would you—”

“How about it, Alice?” Clementine interrupted, drawing Alice’s attention away from Richard’s friends.

“What?”

“Want to take a self-defense class with me? Richard’s a great teacher, and you can’t let something like last night happen again.”

“What happened last night?” Richard asked, frowning thunderously. Alice could see him in overprotective Bat-dad mode.

“I met Red Hood,” she replied, and his eyebrows shot up. “Would you be interested in playing him for my movie?” she added to his companion.

The man’s face went slack. Richard and his other friend both twisted rather dramatically to look at him. A moment passed, Clementine inclining her head to study Richard’s friend, then Richard began to laugh, clutching his stomach. The potential Red Hood punched them both in the arm, one after the other.

“Oh, come on, Jaybird,” Richard hooted, unfazed. “You’d be great! You could play Red Hood.”

“You think he’d be good for it?” Clementine asked Alice, still considering him with something akin to suspicion.

Alice nodded. “They’ve got similar builds, if nothing else.”

“It’d balance out Red Robin being a girl,” Clementine mused, and the third let out a peculiar noise similar to a squeaky toy that had been unexpectedly stepped on.

The potential Red Hood was still staring at Alice, his mouth half open and his eyes slightly narrowed, so Alice offered, “You wouldn’t have to talk, if that’s what you’re worried about. He was really helpful last night and read off all of his lines, and with the helmet we can just dub the voice.”

“Which is what we’d like to do, anyway,” Clem added.

“ _Red Hood_ read you his lines?” the third demanded, to which Richard nodded and made gleeful, inarticulate noises of delight. His grin was so wide that he could have slapped on some paint and been the Joker.

There weren’t any villains in the film, though Clementine claimed that Alice herself was the villain because she was controlling everyone, but a villain centered movie could certainly be interesting. Maybe she could write it and have Richard as the Joker, not that she would want a movie with him as the focus. People didn’t need to sympathize with a person like that, and she didn’t exactly like the idea of writing a script for a movie where the main characters were all full of hate. A Poison Ivy movie, though, would not only get a ringing endorsement from Clem, but would be one that Alice would be happy to make a sympathetic plot for. Ivy was certainly bad, and Alice didn’t entirely agree with her methods, but her goals were relatable.

Maybe it could have a Harley Quinn cameo, complete with Richard as the Joker so that Harley could smack him with her hammer.

“Yeah, _and_ he delivered the letter for Alice’s dream Batman,” Clementine said gleefully, drawing Alice out of her thoughts.

Richard gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m not your first choice? What am I to you?”

“You’d be a great Joker,” Alice offered, and then shut her mouth with a click when she realized that she’d actually _said_ it.

Everyone stopped. A few people in line turned and stared. Clementine pressed her hands to her face. The possible Red Hood tipped back his head and laughed, further proving that he’d make an excellent Red Hood even if he seemed to laugh with his head back while Hood had laughed with his whole body forward.

“Are you in the movie?” the youngest one asked, studying Alice.

“Kind of,” Alice replied after a beat, trying to ignore the heat in her face. “Clementine says I’m the Playwright, a villain controlling the heroes. I’m only hinted at, but it’s my excuse for any inaccuracies. Besides, it’s fun to crack the fourth wall.”

“Why do you think Dick should be the Joker?”

“Could be, like, in a spin-off,” Alice corrected. “He’s tall enough to loom over a Robin or two and he’s got a great diabolical smile. No, uh, no offense?”

Richard waved a hand, opening his mouth, but Clementine announced, “I’ve got it! We can borrow Professor Meyna’s kid! He just turned seven, right?”

Alice blinked at her. “What?”

“For Robin,” Clementine added, supplying only a small amount of context. “Robin’s that small and we can give the kid a fake sword, let him go wild.”

The Red Hood candidate had mostly stopped laughing, but at Clementine’s words he started to wheeze. Hopefully he was still breathing through all that amusement.

“Isn’t that child endangerment?” Alice asked.

“You wanted to endanger Gram as Bat Dog.”

“ _You_ wanted to use your giant stuffed dog as Bat Dog. We don’t even have a role for Bat Dog.”

“And that is a _tragedy_ ,” Clementine insisted. “I demand a rewrite!”

“Then have fun rewriting it,” Alice replied dryly, and pivoted to turn her back on Clementine and focus on Richard and his companions. “I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten any of your names.”

“I’m Tim,” the sleep deprived one said, then gestured at the wheezing Red Hood candidate. “He’s Jason, and I, for one, think he would make a terrible Red Hood.”

“Oi!” Jason barked.

“Does that mean you want to be Red Hood?” Alice asked curiously, stepping forward in the line when Clementine pulled her along. “We can swap numbers. I’ll need yours anyway,” she added to Richard.

“Sure,” he agreed, pulling out a phone and passing it to her with the contacts screen already open. Alice hummed in thanks, punching in her name and number. “You think you’re going to make a sequel?”

Alice shrugged. “This is my final project, but never say never, right? Maybe people will try to hire me for a Joker origin story and I’ll turn it into a…” Probably shouldn’t mention Ivy, or Clem would never let it go. “League of Villains story. Or a Rogues story.” She blinked at the idea, abruptly a little baffled. Why hadn’t she just done that from the start? Their characterization would have been so much easier, not to mention she was actually a local for their area.

Ah, well. Something for next time.

“Not a Joker fan?” Richard asked, accepting his phone.

“Don’t do it, Alice,” Clementine muttered.

Alice rolled her eyes, but obligingly shortened her response to, “No.”

“Who is?” Jason grumbled.

Alice kept her mouth shut, carefully avoiding making a comment on the intelligence of people who liked, or worse, _supported_ the madman.

“We’ll see you later, yeah, Richard?” Clementine said, no doubt picking up on Alice’s displeasure.

Richard hesitated, eyes lingering on Alice, then he smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be in touch.”

Clementine beamed at him, then towed Alice into the coffee shop. As soon as they were inside, she fixed Alice with a worried look. “You good?”

Alice blinked at her. “Yeah, of course. You know how I feel about the Joker, and people like him.”

Clementine sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…I know you’re only a tiny bit homicidal,” Alice made an insulted noise, “but you tend to scare people when you let it show.”

Alice lifted a hand, fingers brushing over one of her earrings. The samurai hadn’t been damaged in the brief tussle, luckily, but she didn’t tug on it like she’d had the habit of doing when she was younger. “I know,” she said. “It just…upsets me when people try to lump him in with other kinds of villains.”

Clementine pursed her lips, but her shoulders had sagged. “Yeah. Me too.”

By the time they had reached the counter, they were comfortably debating which movie they’d watch for movie night. As they exited, Clementine insisting on some kind of silent horror film, Alice’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out, shifting her grip on her bag, and hummed noncommittally as she opened her messages.

Unknown Number (9:42)

Hello. Is this Alice Vertur?

Alice (9:43)

Yep, that's me! Is this Jason and/or Richard?

Unknown Number (10:00)

No. This is Bruce Wayne. I'd like to hear more about the project you mentioned in your letter, and how it got on my desk.

Slowly, Alice lifted the phone and turned it so Clementine could see. The scream made several people jump, but neither one of them cared about the glares being sent their way.


	3. The Discovery of a Robin

Clementine’s hands were so tight around her plastic cup that Alice was trying to subtly ease herself away from it in case of explosion. Of course, Alice was nervous, too, but she was showing it in a somewhat less threatening way. Well, less threatening as long as her samurai earring didn’t stab her as she restlessly fiddled with it. They were quite sturdy, all things considered, and as of yet had not actually done more than give her a few pokes.

Red Hood worked fast, but she hadn’t been expecting a response from Mr. Wayne, much less an offer to meet the very same day. For lunch, he had added, like that made it any less surreal.

A sleek black car pulled up to the café and Clementine’s coffee burst. They both sprang to their feet, Clementine running for napkins while Alice looked swiftly between _Bruce Wayne_ and the pool of pale brown spreading across the table. Multiple people stared as he entered, but he somehow identified her before she could move and strode over.

He smiled, small and polite, and extended a hand. “Alice Vertur?”

“That’s me,” she agreed, hoping her voice didn’t sound as pitchy as it did in her head. She cleared her throat forcefully and shook his hand. “Thank you for giving us your time, Mr. Wayne.”

His smile shifted a shade more genuine, or perhaps more amused, and he looked at Clementine. She froze like a deer in headlights, clutching the dripping mass of napkins. She blanched when they made eye contact and scrambled away.

“I’m, I’m very sorry,” Alice said hastily, and he turned a bemused look on her. She hurriedly pulled out a chair at a different table and he took a seat. “We’ve, um, we’ve found someone to act as the body of Batman, and the voice if you don’t want to. The only scene that we would really love to have is—”

“Robin!” Clementine cried, loud and ecstatic. Alice looked toward the trashcans and found Clementine in front of a scowling boy who, while not particularly short, likely wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. He was scowling at Clementine, but she seemed too delighted to notice.

Alice glanced at Bruce Wayne in time to see an odd expression vanish from his face and, to her surprise, he said, “Actually, that’s my son, Damian.”

“Isn’t he perfect, Alice?” Clementine asked, hurrying over to Alice’s side. “He might be a little too tall, but we won’t need a toddler. He’s got the right face at least!” She looked at Damian, who had, albeit grudgingly, followed after her to stand by Mr. Wayne. “Want to be in a movie, kiddo?”

Damian made a short, cut off sound, like he was going to reply with something impolite and reconsidered. He turned to Bruce Wayne, arms crossing over his chest and chin tipping up as he firmly said, “Father, I refuse to take part in this regardless of what the others have said.”

Clementine, focused on her phone, told Alice, “I’m sending his picture to Richard to see what he thinks. I wonder if he’s a student’s kid. I don’t think he’s with any of the professors.”

“Clem,” Alice hissed, then, seeing that Mr. Wayne was giving them a curious look, added, “Richard Grayson is the one who agreed to play Batman. He’s a friend of Clem’s.”

Mr. Wayne made a small sound of understanding. He paused, looking between Clementine, who was frowning at her phone, and Alice. “Grayson, you said?” When Alice nodded, he explained, “Richard Grayson is one of my wards.”

Alice blinked, processing that revelation. “Oh,” she finally said, a bit at a loss. “I…wow. That could actually be pretty fun. Like, Batman’s the family business.” It would put some more weight on Hood’s summary of Bat-Dad, too, and it wouldn’t even take that much reworking of the script.

Mr. Wayne smiled a bit stiffly. “And you mentioned a Jason, when I first contacted you. Do you have his last name?”

Alice shook her head. “He hasn’t messaged me, either.” She hesitated, recalling news reports about the death of one of Bruce Wayne’s sons. It was before she came to Gotham, before she had more than a vague interest in heroes, but she thought that the boy’s name had been Jason. It was an odd coincidence, and Alice wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to try looking it up later when it likely meant she’d be digging into some rather unpleasant memories for Bruce and Richard alike if she ever mentioned it to them.

“Richard replied with a bunch of laughing emojis,” Clementine said, looking up from her phone with a pout.

“Probably because Damian is his brother,” Alice replied dryly. “You know, another one of Mr. Wayne’s sons.”

Clementine stared at her. Alice glanced meaningfully at where Damian was standing besider Mr. Wayne, scowling. Clementine slowly took a step away from them, then another, punching a button on her phone. She raised it to her ear and waited a moment.

In a sweet voice that made Alice wince in pity, she said, “Richard, I didn’t know you were related to Bruce Wayne.”

“Is she in the movie?” Mr. Wayne asked, leaning toward Alice to speak in a near whisper.

Alice nodded. “She’s doing everything with the audio and she’s playing Batgirl.”

Mr. Wayne nodded, watching as Clementine, voice still saccharine, told them, “I’ll be right back,” and headed for the door.

“I’d be willing to bet that she and Richard dated at some point,” Alice admitted, watching Clementine get outside and immediately assume what Drake called her ‘lecture’ posture. It was the kind of position that, even across a phone call, you could _hear_.

“As if Grayson would ever date—”

“Damian,” Mr. Wayne interrupted, “I do believe you would be an excellent Robin, especially as so many of the family is involved.” Damian gawked at him and Mr. Wayne continued, unperturbed, “I’m sure that Dick would love to have you.”

“You’d be welcome on the set even if you don’t want to be Robin,” Alice added, when Damian’s expression twisted into something that managed to convey both insult and interest. “One of my professors has a son who loves Robin and even has a Halloween costume he could use.”

Damian eyed her, nose scrunching slightly. “How old is he?” he asked warily.

Alice glanced at Clementine, who was now in the ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ position. “Clem would be able to tell you for sure, but I think he’s six or seven.”

Damian made a strangled noise, looking sharply at Mr. Wayne, then he planted his feet and nodded sharply. “Fine. For the purpose of your film, I will be Robin. And,” he added with a pointed look at the smiling Bruce Wayne, “Father will supply the costumes. All of them.”

Mr. Wayne seemed highly entertained by that declaration, and that alone stopped Alice from choking on thin air in her rush to say, “That’s really not necessary, sir.” She glanced between them, not sure which one to address. “I have a friend in the drama department who—”

“I insist,” Bruce Wayne cut in, waving a casual hand. “Frankly I’m…” He considered for a moment. “Honored that you would think of me as someone capable of being the Batman.”

Alice stared at him. Weakly, she offered, “The butts match.”

Mr. Wayne smiled. “Indeed they do. Shall we begin the voice recording? I can take us to my mansion if you would also like to shoot the final scene. You indicated that you and your friend had plenty of time today?”

Alice opened her mouth, then closed it again. She nodded. Mr. Wayne, apparently used to people being at a loss for words around him, smiled and stood. He moved toward the door, pausing while Alice grabbed Clem’s backpack of audio equipment, then led the way outside.

Clementine paused in her hissed rant when she saw them, then said, “We _will_ talk about this later, Rich,” like a threat, and pointedly hung up. She turned to them, cheeks as flushed as her hair, and smiled brightly. “What’re we doing now?”

“The scenes,” Alice told her quickly, following Mr. Wayne to the car. An older gentleman, Alfred, she realized, opened the door for them and they all shuffled into a bizarrely large back seat.

The car smelled new, stiff and clean and unaccustomed to people sitting in it. Instead of interacting with Bruce Wayne or his son, she busied herself with opening Clementine’s backpack and pulling out the script that she’d brought. She passed the pack over to Clem, who had started making grabby hands as soon as she realized Alice had it, and then flipped open the script to where Robin’s first few lines were.

He was introduced last, since she had mostly gone in the order of approximate age rather than first appearances, but he was still fairly close to the beginning. She held it out to Damian. “If you’d like to take a look at your lines,” she explained.

With a stiff nod, he accepted the script and promptly went back to the front page, where Clementine-as-Batgirl had the opening lines. “When most people think of the Batman, they think of something like this,” he mumbled, then paused, presumably reading the visual description. Mr. Wayne leaned over to look. “But in reality it’s more like…”

Damian looked up sharply, frowning at them. “This is very disrespectful,” he said firmly.

“It’s a comedy,” Clementine countered. “And besides, who’s to say Batman doesn’t chase around the Robins like he’s their mother? The latest one probably needs it, what with the way he launches himself at villains. That kid’ll get killed if he isn’t careful.”

Damian bristled, but before he could launch into what Alice was certain would be a passionate defense of both Batman and Robin, Mr. Wayne set a hand on his shoulder and asked Alice, “Are you concerned about how this will be received by the real Batman?”

She hesitated, considering her words. “I mean, I hope he enjoys it,” she finally replied. “It’s a comedy, not a documentary. You could even call it a mockumentary if you wanted, I guess. I’ll be disappointed if he and the others don’t like it, but it won’t be the end of the world.”

“Besides,” Clementine chirped. “At least one of them thought it was great!”

Alice smiled faintly and, at Mr. Wayne’s puzzled look, explained, “I ran into Red Hood and he—are you alright, Mr. Wayne?”

Mr. Wayne, who had dropped into a coughing fit, hastily waved a hand at her. Damian was staring at Alice, a rather familiar, by now, expression of offense on his face. It occurred to Alice that she maybe shouldn’t have mentioned the arguably craziest member of the Bat family to the billionare; she didn’t know if they’d ever had personal encounters but Hood’s reputation was not the kindest. Clementine might have been onto something with all the times she had tried to convince Alice to simply avoid Hood’s existence completely.

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat and made a short, firm noise, then asked, “ _He_ read the script?”

Alice nodded and Clementine said, “He even recorded all of his lines for us!”

Mr. Wayne’s expression was a peculiar one; it reminded Alice of a face her mom had made when a frog had settled inside her mom’s shoe when it was left out overnight and the next morning, when her mom had put on the shoe, the frog had met a rather untimely end. It had been a combination of confusion and horror, with no small amount of disgust once she realized what had happened. Mr. Wayne wasn’t quite replicating it, but Alice thought it was similar.

“I…see,” was all he said.

Damian made a sound, but Mr. Wayne shot him a look and he shut his mouth with a snap. He refocused on the script, and the drive resumed in silence.


	4. A Completed Cast List

Alice walked up the stairs to her apartment, one eye on the stream of messages that Clementine had been sending her since Mr. Wayne, or rather, Alfred dropped Alice off at her apartment building. Most of involved exclamation points, which was reasonable considering that Mr. Wayne had done the main scene they wanted _first_ and then made a point of recording all of Batman’s other lines, with the occasional break to munch on sandwiches delivered by Alfred.

Damian had been lurking nearby the entire time and was probably in multiple clips, but Alice knew Clementine had half the mind to keep some of his lines in an attempt to emphasize the bizarre amount of spite in the kid.

Clementine Monro (20:47)

AHHHHHH I can’t believe that just HAPPENED!!!!

Alice (20:47)

I know, right?? I’ll have to find Red Hood and thank him!

Alice shifted her bag and reached past her script to dig out her key, finding it easily and fitting it first into the bolt lock, then the knob. She stepped inside, dropping her key back into her bag and then letting the bag itself fall to the ground beside it. Her phone went off, but the sound was a chime rather than a bell.

Drake Ororu (20:49)

Do I want to know why Clementine just walked in and shouted ‘Alice no’ when I tried to greet her?

A different text popped down as a banner at the same time:

Clementine Monro (20:49)

DO NOT SEEK OUT THE SCARY VIGILANTE MAN

Alice flipped on the lights, then shrieked and pitched her phone in the direction of the voice that immediately demanded, “You offered my part to someone else?”

Red Hood, sitting on her counter with her phone in one hand, managed to look immensely put-out despite the fact that he was wearing a large red bucket on his head. “Don’t scream,” he said impatiently, “it’s just me. Did you seriously offer my part to some guy off the street?”

Alice stared at him, one hand pressed to her chest as she caught her breath. “How…where?” She looked around, but the only entrance other than the door was the window, which was locked as she’d left it.

Hood waved a dismissive hand, setting her phone beside him. “I have my ways. But that isn’t the problem.”

“This is breaking and entering!”

“Oh, come on! I saved you the other day _and_ I delivered your letter, which!” He pointed at her. “I’m told bore swift results! So, we’re totally friend status.”

Alice huffed. “Tentative acquaintances, bucket head.”

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in offense, and Alice couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood crossed his arms and tipped his head up. She had a feeling that he was pouting and moving just enough to show it, which reminded her that she’d likely end up with an actor closer to the Red Power Ranger than the Red Hood. Except…

“Wait,” she said. “Wait, wait, rewind. What do you mean: your part?”

Red Hood shifted his head down and angled more toward her. “My part. In your script.” He gestured at her bag.

“You mean Red Hood’s part?”

“Uh, yeah. And that’s me. Red Hood.” He motioned at himself and Alice mentally attached raised eyebrows to his helmet. The image made her bite her tongue to keep from laughing and she stepped forward quickly, picking up her phone. Hood didn’t move to stop her, just turning his head to watch as she dialed.

“Alice?” Clementine asked, concern clear in her voice.

“Hey, Clem. I’m putting you on speaker.” Alice did so, then continued, “Red Hood is here.”

Clementine was silent for a moment. “What? Aren’t you at your place?”

Alice could distantly hear Drake asking something in the background, but she didn’t give Clem time to translate before she confirmed, “Yup. He broke in.” Then, a thought occurring to her, she looked at Hood. “How long have you been waiting for me?”

Red Hood shrugged. “A few hours.”

Alice looked at his pretzeled legs. It was a position she remembered sitting in back in elementary school, but she hadn’t sat like that in years. She remembered, though, how her feet would get numb and tingly and she and her friends would stumble around like baby deer waiting for the sensation to stop. “Are your legs asleep?” she asked cautiously.

Hood snorted. “What? No.”

Alice blinked slowly, then stepped back. “Yeah? Stand up.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“So you can’t.”

“I _can_. I just don’t want to.”

“Alice, what the fuck?” Clementine demanded impatiently.

“Red Hood is sitting on my counter,” Alice told her.

“Should I call the police?” Drake asked, clearer now.

“I could use that little Batman flashlight my parents gave me,” Clementine offered, then paused and added, “Never mind. I think I threw it away.”

“Why is he there?” Drake questioned. It was good that at least one of their group could stay on topic.

“He’s upset I offered the part of Red Hood to Jason,” Alice explained.

“How’d he know about it?” Drake asked reasonably.

“I’m the Red Hood,” Hood said imperiously, though his shoulders were shaking with mirth.

“You were stalking her!” Clementine gasped. “I’m calling Richard!”

“What would that do?” Alice asked, but Clementine had already hung up. Alice looked at her phone, then at Hood. She sighed, then asked, “Why do you care, anyway? It’s not like it’s…I mean, do you really want to play a fake Red Hood?”

Hood shrugged. “I mean, it’d be funny. Roll the credits and you’ve got Batman voiced by Red Hood, then Red Hood played by Red Hood.” He snickered suddenly. “It’d be like Nightwing being Batman.”

Alice leaned back, studying him. It would be fun, she had to agree, and he might even help with how everyone interacted. “You wouldn’t be paid,” she said. He straightened quickly. “And you’d need a schedule, at least for some of the time. If you really want to do this, not just be a voice like Mr. Wayne, thank you, by the way, you have to be present.”

“I can do that,” he assured her. “Besides, if someone does attack, it’s not like your whole cast is going to stick around.”

Alice nodded, ceding the point. The stage they were using wasn’t exactly in a prime danger spot, but it was still in Gotham. “Okay. But we’re telling everyone that you’re the real deal. They deserve to know.”

“That’s fair. You think I’ll scare them off?”

“I’m not sure, but it wouldn’t sit well with me otherwise. Do you want a fake costume?”

“What?”

“Mr. Wayne agreed to supply costumes. I’m sure that they’ll be safe; his son is going to be in the movie and I doubt he’d put him in danger even though there aren’t supposed to be many stunts.”

“His son? You mean Grayson?”

Alice frowned, then realized that Hood probably knew his name the same way he knew about Jason. “No, Damian.”

Hood fell off the counter. He landed with a resounding thud that made Alice wince; she was a good neighbor, or at least as much as she could be, and she doubted that the sound had gone unnoticed by the occupants of the room below her. Hood rolled onto his side and cackled noisily, oblivious.

Alice rolled her eyes and stepped over him, opening the cabinet to get out a mug. “Do you want tea?” she asked the giggling vigilante. “I’ve got honey.”

He made an incoherent sound, so she decided to make him some anyway. He was surprisingly easy to navigate around, even when he almost smacked her in the ankle as he got his hands under himself enough to sit up. Alice filled the mugs in the sink and put one of them in the microwave, then pulled out her small collection of teas and set them on the counter to prevent him from retaking his seat.

“My favorite is the orange and ginger,” she said, taking the paper bag. “You can pick one, too.”

Red Hood sat on the ground and looked up at her for a moment, then hauled himself to his feet. He rifled through the bags, asking, “How’d you get Damian Wayne to be your Robin?” He pulled out a bag of raspberry tea and stepped away from the others.

Alice passed him the heated mug and he made a motion like he was doffing a hat, then dropped the tea into the water. He accepted the honey bottle, an absurdly large container that looked like a bear, and a spoon with an air of amusement and began to pour a steady stream of honey over the tea bag.

“I’m still not sure. He was against it at first, but then he agreed. If you take more than half of what I’ve got in there, you’re buying me more.”

“How am I supposed to get it to you if I’m not allowed in?” he asked, but he popped the lid back on and handed it to her.

Alice rolled her eyes. “Wait outside like a normal person.”

He lifted his head, the spoon he’d been idly sweeping through the water going still. Alice couldn’t guess what his expression was. “You’re serious,” he said.

“Yeah? Just no breaking and ente—“ Alice turned as the microwave beeped and jumped badly, the honey slipping from her hand. Hood lunged to catch it and popped up again, setting it on the counter.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, swiveling to examine her.

“There was someone at my window.” Alice started to move toward it, but Hood slipped in front of her and took a few rapid steps, beating her there.

He briskly unlocked it and pushed it up, then stuck his head out. He twisted around, clearly searching the area, then groaned loudly. “What do you want, you dick?”

“Just checking on you,” another voice answered with a snicker.

Alice rolled her eyes and turned back to her tea, removing the mug from the microwave. She placed the teabag in the cup and squeezed out some honey, not quite listening as Hood and the visitor conversed. Once she’d stirred the honey in, she walked over to the window, touching Hood’s shoulder in case he hadn’t heard her approaching.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Don’t come over,” he scolded, pulling his head back in. “It could be someone dangerous.”

“Or just some dick,” Alice returned dryly. “Otherwise you might have vaulted out the window like a crazed ballerina.”

“…the fuck?”

Hood was probably staring at her. A face appeared in the window, but before she could properly see it the face turned into a torso, then an entire person, slipping through her window with ease. Alice stepped back, staring at the black outfit and bright blue lining.

“That’s Nightwing,” she said.

“More like an Orwellian Big Brother,” Hood grumbled. “What’re you doing here?”

“Like you don’t know,” Nightwing replied. He sent a charming smile at Alice. At least, it was probably supposed to be charming, but she was a little busy processing his existence in her apartment.

She took a step back. Pointed at the tea boxes. Quickly walked over to them. She pulled out her third and final mug and filled it, then stuck it into the microwave. When she turned around again, Red Robin was sitting in the window, legs dangling into her apartment while he watched her with an amused expression.

Clementine had said, at some point, that he was supposed to be a caffeine addict, so Alice dug out the lone caffeinated tea in her possession. Setting it to the side, she opened a different cupboard and pulled out the large soup mug that she used for ramen and filled it with water, too. She placed a peppermint teabag into the purple cat mug for Nightwing and walked back to them, pushing it into his hands. He accepted it, baffled.

Red Hood followed her back to the kitchenette, picking up his own mug. It was, Alice finally realized, the green and black one that had a panda on it. Her own mug was her usual elephant mug, while Drake’s and Clementine’s had gone to Nightwing and Red Hood, respectively. Hood hovered by her while she removed the bowl from the microwave and dropped the tea bag into it, then returned to the window and presented it to Red Robin, who took it without looking.

It seemed to take him a moment to process what he was now holding, at which point he sat up straighter and sniffed the tea. He shrugged and took a sip. Alice turned and found Red Hood holding her own mug, which she accepted and took a long, slow drink, feeling the motion of her earrings and grounding herself with it. She lowered her mug and sighed.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. You.” She pointed at Hood. “Talk.”

“Are you okay?”

“Actually, no. Your turn.” She pointed at Nightwing.

He sipped his tea, smirking. “We picked up a call from a concerned citizen.”

“Why did we all come in?” Red Robin asked.

“Yes,” Alice agreed. “That question. And are more coming? Because if they do, they’re just going to keep getting soup mugs.”

Red Robin looked at his mug. “Soup.”

“Well,” Nightwing chirped, with Clementine-esque eagerness, “I had to meet you!” Hood muttered something, but it was drowned when he continued, “You’re meeting some very high profile people, you know.”

“Your record is absurdly clean, too,” Red Robin put in, gesturing at her with his rapidly emptying soup mug. “In fact, you’re practically sparkling.”

“I got suspended in the third grade for getting in a fight,” Alice offered.

Red Robin, Nightwing, and Red Hood all stared at her. Nightwing shifted, opening his mouth, then paused when Red Robin straightened, head cocking like he was an actual bird. A moment later, the other two reacted the same way. In an instant, Red Robin was out the window, Nightwing close behind. Red Hood saluted Alice with her mug and followed.

Alice stared after them, belatedly realizing that she’d missed the chance to get a voice recording from Red Robin or Nightwing. Slowly, she closed the window and locked it, checking that the dog flap was undamaged from how fast Hood had opened the window to shout at one of the others.

She turned toward the counter, planning on putting away the tea and honey, then paused. She looked back at the window. “They took my mugs,” she said, a bit blankly. The only response was the brush of her earrings against her neck, reassuring in their familiarity, if nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Primary Cast list in no particular order:
> 
> Batman - Richard Grayson (voiced by Bruce Wayne)  
> Robin - Damian Wayne  
> Nightwing - Drake Ororu  
> Batgirl - Clementine Monro  
> Red Robin - Lily  
> Red Hood - Red Hood  
> Black Bat - June


	5. Mugs and Movies

Unknown (07:19)

Hey do you want your mugs back or can we keep them

Alice (7:20)

What?

My mugs?

Hood?

Unknown (07:23)

Red Robin, actually.

(Unknown 07:28)

So did you want them back or

Alice (07:29)

Yes I want them back!

Unknown (07:40)

Okay I’m at your window

Alice (7:41)

I’m not home. Can you just leave them on the fire escape or something?

Unknown (7:42)

I’ll just use the dog door.

Where are you?

Actually, it isn’t even eight why are you even awake?

Alice looked up, considering Clementine and Drake where they were both sprawled across the couch, tangled in each other. Alice was seated quite comfortably on the squishy chair closest to the door, while the couch was across from the television. Clementine, eyes fixed on the screen, was murmuring along to the song. Drake was giving her an utterly besotted look.

After a moment, Alice raised her phone and snapped a picture. She sent it to Red Robin.

Unknown (7:55)

Ah, friendship.

Young love? Who’s the blond guy?

Is it still young love if you’re older than me?

What movie are you watching?

Alice (7:56)

Tangled. And that’s Drake.

We’re older than you?

Unknown (7:58)

According to the files I found, yeah

Happy belated birthday by the way.

Alice (7:59)

My birthday was in June but thanks lol

Alice (8:03)

Hold on

Unknown (8:03)

?

Alice (8:05)

If you’re younger than me but you’ve been Red Robin for several years were you doing hero stuff as a minor???

Unknown (8:06)

Sorry I think someone is calling for help bye

Alice stared at her phone. She glanced at Clementine and Drake, then back at her phone. After a long moment, she closed her eyes, shook her head, and muttered, “I do not want to know. I so, so do not want to know.”

Clementine was grumbling about Mother Gothel, but Drake twisted his neck at what had to be an awkward angle so he could see Alice. It made his thick blond curls tumble into his eyes and he huffed, shoving it out of his face. It was, Alice thought with a flicker of fondness, like that video of the mop-furred-dog swimming through a lake.

Drake, no doubt observing her amusement, stuck out his tongue at her. He glanced at Clem, then back to Alice, cocking his head in question. Alice smiled and shook her head. He waited for another moment, blue eyes intent, then shifted back into his former position.

* * *

Clementine hummed softly, opening the shelves under the television to look through her movies. Alice, crouched beside her, pulled out Toy Story and offered it to Drake. He accepted it, twisting to set it on the table with the other movies.

“Uh,” he said, which, for Drake, was pretty unusual so Clementine and Alice both turned. The three of them stared at Red Hood, halfway in the window. In _Clementine’s_ window. In fact, it looked like he was squeezing through the dog door Clem had installed.

Hood paused, red bucket tipping back toward them, then waved awkwardly and shimmied through the window the rest of the way. “It’s nice that you both have a dog door, even if it’s for a drone,” he said conversationally.

“I think we need to lower the door,” Alice told Clementine. “Or change the locks.” She wasn’t sure how either would work, since neither option had been within her financial abilities when she first installed them, either. Clementine had paid for it, and when Alice’s landlord hemmed and hawed over it, Clementine had rolled her eyes and added her name to the lease. It couldn’t be that expensive for some small modifications, though, and Alice didn’t like the idea of keeping the drone cooped up.

On that thought, she made a mental note to check its camera. It had gone toward Central City, last she checked, and sometimes it stopped by her parent’s house and they would hold up notes for her to read. It was sweet, and always made Clementine coo. They had written a note for Clementine, once, and Alice had resorted to calling Drake and emailing their professors that they wouldn’t be available at the tears it had prompted.

“Replacement said you were here,” Hood said, apparently content to ignore their stares. “I have something for you.”

“You’re stalking her,” Clementine murmured.

Cheerfully ignorant, Hood tossed something at Alice. She fumbled but managed to catch it and avoid Clementine’s grab in the process, so she only shot Hood a half-hearted glare before she looked down at it.

It was a flip phone. Black, about the size of her palm, and with a logo on it that she recognized as Wayne Enterprises. Huh. Maybe she could hint a bit more about the Bats using Bruce Wayne’s tech.

“It has our numbers on it, so you can call us with it,” Hood said, and Alice shot him a quick, startled glance before opening the phone and navigating to the contacts. Sure enough, there was a list of numbers. Red Hood’s was notably different because it had a smiling emoji next to his name, but Alice lost her train of thought when she looked at the top of the list. She stared dumbly at the second one, only that low because it was alphabetically accurate.

“You gave me Batman’s phone number?” she asked weakly.

Hood nodded sagely, meandering over to them and dropping onto the couch. He paused, head tipping, then bounced slightly before settling again. “This is super comfortable,” he said approvingly, giving Clementine a thumbs up. “But yeah. In case of emergencies. You could be targeted because of your movie.” He leaned forward to pick up the movie stack, reaching around Drake to do so. Drake hastily stepped back.

Alice frowned, one hand reaching for her earrings. She glanced at her friends, saw them see the motion, and hastily lowered her hand. “I can barely keep track of my phone,” she said bluntly. “You think I can keep track of two?”

Hood snorted, shrugging. “Toy Story 3. Nice. Made Nightwing cry like a baby.” He slid it back onto the table and Clementine, grinning with a concerning amount of wickedness, snatched it up and turned to put it into the player.

Hood looked toward Drake, regarding him with a tipped head as he leaned back enough to fully consider the other man. “You’re going to be playing Nightwing?” he guessed.

Drake nodded slowly. “I…yeah,” he finally said. “I’m a fan of his.”

“Blond Nightwing,” Red Hood said thoughtfully. “You could probably pull it off.”

Drake’s cheeks flushed slightly, but he shook his head. “I have an appointment at the salon later today. I’m cutting it and getting it dyed.”

“Travesty!” Clementine howled, and if she hadn’t done it every time Drake mentioned that particular plan Alice might have thought she was yelling it at the television.

Hood laughed, though it was oddly more subdued than his usual laughs. “You’ll certainly fit in, then,” he said merrily. Then, turning to Alice, he set his elbows on his knees and regarded her contemplatively for a moment before he said, “The demon brat calls you the Vertur girl.” He paused, long enough that Clementine also turned to look at him curiously while Alice waited with some bemusement to see where he was going, so he elaborated, “You told me your last name was Elroy.”

Alice paused a moment, thinking back, then shrugged. It seemed likely enough, and she still went between the two without thinking much about it. There had been the same confusion with Drake and Clementine, way back when, because she’d told one of them Vertrur and the other Elroy. "My legal name is Vertur, but my birth father is Elroy. Was Elroy. I kind of think of myself as Alice Vertur-Elroy, but I haven’t gotten it changed. Not sure if I want to. I never really knew my birth father.”

Hood made a quietly discontented sound. “Sperm donor asshole type?” he asked, and though the words weren’t exactly nice he sounded some combination of concerned and curious so Alice didn’t take offense.

“Missing in Action, presumed dead,” she corrected instead. “The Wayne Foundation paid for a lot of my tuition because of it.” She paused, recalling Red Robin’s comments on her file, then asked, “Shouldn’t you know about this stuff? It’s public knowledge…or at least it isn’t _private_.”

Hood shrugged. “Probably, but I don’t feel like reading the sparknotes version of your files. Figured I could just ask you instead. Don’t think you’d lie to me.”

“Can I read the sparknotes version?” Alice asked curiously.

“And me?” Clementine added hopefully, and dodged when Alice moved to elbow her.

“I can find out,” Hood said. He started to settle back, then paused, letting out a huff. “Aw, really? I wanted to watch Toy Story!” Before any of them could ask what he meant, or contest his self-invitation, he heaved himself to his feet grumbling, “Fine, fine, I’m coming.”

Alice stood to watch him head back toward the window, commenting, “There’s a perfectly good door, you know.”

“Doors are for chumps,” he called back, already swinging out the window. “I’ll see you later!” And with that, he was gone.

“We should send him memes,” Clementine said after a beat. “Like animals stuck in dog doors.”

Alice and Drake both laughed, though Drake tried a little more to hide it. They all waited another moment, the music from the starting screen of Toy Story 3 starting, then Drake turned and looked at Alice, some combination of uncertain and expectant.

“I think so,” she said after a beat. “I can make you a guard, too. Just in case?”

She was a little worried that he would argue, but instead he simply smiled. “I’d like that.”

Clementine bounced to her feet, grinning wildly. “Oh! This means I can have an excuse to wear Dee and Dum full time!”

So saying, she dashed for her room. Drake and Alice exchanged amused looks, both of them moving back to their seats to wait for her return and the start of, in Alice’s opinion, the best of the Toy Story films.

* * *

Clementine (16:14)

[IMG. 1942]

ISSA BEAR

baby is stuck in the door

hlep im wheezing

Alice (16:15)

yes. Forwarding now.

* * *

Fido (16:29)

I gave you this for emergencies you know

Alice (16:32)

Does that mean you don’t like it?

Fido (16:47)

I didn’t say that

* * *

Mug Thief (16:50)

I knew I liked you for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Article with the reference image: https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2015/08/15/bear-idaho-cat-door/31778639/


	6. The Importance of Names

Clementine leaned over Alice’s shoulders, draping her arms casually across her while she considered Alice’s new flip phone. Drake, seated one row in front of them because he had agreed to take the literature class with them without realizing that the professor was the sort to tell people to stay in the seats they picked on the first day, was drawing detailed flowers in the sketchbook that Alice had given him, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth just slightly. He looked extremely good with short black hair, strikingly handsome in a rugged sort of way rather than handsome in the sweet and friendly manner that he had been as long as Alice and Clementine had known him. Apparently, black hair and blue eyes was Alice’s type on men as well as women.

Clementine’s halfway teasing but still entirely too serious comments about offering to add Alice into their relationship were considerably more tempting when Drake looked like that, a thought that made Alice’s ears and cheeks burn. It wasn’t something she wanted, though; they were dear friends, her best friends, and while Alice loved them both it was entirely platonic. Alice and Clem had tried it, albeit with just the two of them, and agreed that they were happier just as friends.

Alice was deeply, desperately glad that it had ended that way.

“Didn’t he return them, though?” Clementine asked, drawing Alice’s gaze away from Drake. Clem had a certain pleased, smug look to her and Alice felt her face grow impossibly hotter before she reached out and shoved Clementine away by planting a palm on her face. Clementine squawked and flailed, narrowly avoiding smacking Drake.

Without missing a beat, Drake caught her hand in his and absently brushed a kiss over her knuckles, making Clementine blush to rival Alice’s as she hastily sat down, not trying to take her hand back. Alice grinned at Clementine, who stuck out her tongue.

Alice loved her friends.

“Yeah, but Mug Returner doesn’t sound good,” she said.

Clementine inclined her head in acceptance. “I like Fido. It’s Hood, right?”

Alice nodded. “I’m not sure what to call the others, though.”

Clementine considered the contact list. “The others are definitely harder. You don’t know them very well.”

Alice nodded again, opting not to point out that she couldn’t really claim that she knew Red Robin. Or Hood, for that matter. “What do you think for Nightwing?” she asked, aiming the question at Drake.

He hummed thoughtfully, lifting his head and tapping the pen against his lips while he idly ran his thumb over Clem’s knuckles. “Plato?”

Alice and Clementine both blinked at him. Clementine finally sighed, turning to Alice. “He named his samurai Socrates. What were you expecting?”

Alice laughed, glancing at the metal samurai, about twice the size of her earrings, that she had given Drake when they met to go to class. He had set it on his desk, where it could stand and glower at the door. It was impressive how well it could glower when it didn’t have a face, but Alice had learned not to question such things. “Fair, fair. What do you think?”

Clementine leaned back in her chair, tipping her head from side to side. “Rich,” she said, slow like she was sounding out the word and still wasn’t sure if it was the right one. Alice shrugged agreeably and started to open Nightwing’s contact, but stopped short when Clementine’s chair legs hit the ground hard and Clementine grabbed her arm. “Nah, that’s boring,” she said, an odd note to her voice that made Drake look away from the flowers once again, brow furrowed.

“Is it?” Alice asked, uncertain.

“Yeah! Do something funny! Like…” Clementine released her to lean back again, not noticing when Drake and Alice exchanged puzzled looks. “Like Not-Drake. Since Drake is the one acting as him, but he’s not!” She grinned at them.

Alice hesitated, but she thought she knew Clementine fairly well and if Clementine was deliberately not talking about something, Alice didn’t want to push her. So Alice nodded, changing the contact name to Not-Drake and saving it.

“Can Batman be Plato?” Drake asked.

“Why do you want to name someone Plato?” Clementine asked him, exasperated.

“Because it’d be cool,” Drake said, straight faced like that was entirely logical. “Or you could make Batgirl or Black Bat Aspasia.”

Alice opened Batgirl and typed in the name; she didn’t have any ideas and it was actually a pretty neat sounding name. “Who is Aspasia?” she asked.

“An ancient Greek speaker. Plato actually mentions her in some of his writings. People don’t know a lot about her but apparently she was really smart.”

Alice hummed, nodding slowly. “Well, that’s Batgirl, too, now,” she agreed. “What about Black Bat?”

“July,” Clementine said without missing a beat. When she realized that it was her turn to receive two bewildered stares, she huffed and said, “Because it’s after June.”

Alice stared at her for another moment, then decided not to argue and typed in the name. “Okay,” she said. “Now we really are at Batman.”

“Something ordinary,” Drake said, setting down the pen and sliding the book to Alice. She shot him a grateful smile, slipping it into her bag for later. “Not Bruce Wayne. It’d be funny, but if someone got the phone it could get him in trouble.”

Alice nodded. “That makes sense. What are ordinary names, then?”

Clementine, an orange or a drowned girl depending on the first impression, and Drake, a duck or dragon depending on the same, looked at each other. Their names _were_ fairly normal, but compared to Alice’s they stood out. Alice’s own name meant strong and kind, according to the first result when she looked it up, which she rather liked.

“Dale,” Drake suggested. “Or Tim.”

“Clark,” Clem added. “John. Will.”

“Too common,” Drake disagreed. “I like Clark. Should he just be Clark?”

“Clark Todd,” Alice said, suddenly remembering the news story about Jason Todd. She had ended up looking it up, curious despite herself, and rather wished she hadn’t. It was no wonder Mr. Wayne had looked upset when she mentioned someone named Jason with his son. The name might not be in the best taste, but it was a sort of inside joke connecting Mr. Wayne to his role as Batman’s voice.

“Sounds good,” Clementine agreed. “Who’s next?”

Alice looked at the list. Batgirl, Batman, Black Bat, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and... “Robin,” she said.

“Hood called him a demon, yeah?” Clem checked, and when Alice nodded she suggested, “Lucy. Diminutive Lucifer.”

Alice snorted while Drake coughed to hide his amusement, but changed the name. “That’s all of the contacts,” she said, pleased.

“Too bad you don’t have any other superfriends,” Clementine sighed, settling her chin on her hands. “You could put them all into the phone. You could be their guy in the chair.”

Alice hummed and turned away, digging through her bag for her notebook. It was fairly easy to find, being the only one in her bag that wasn’t devoted to the script, and she set it on her table.

Clementine settled down beside her, sticking out her legs and stretching her arms over her head. She hastily righted herself as Professor Kelan walked in, looking rather like he had been dragged to the building. Possibly behind the batmobile. Alice watched, mildly concerned, as he trudged to the front podium and set down his bag, then looked around for the desk chair.

It wasn’t in the room – the student teacher down the hall had taken it for herself – and he sighed. Slowly turning tired eyes to the class, he considered them.

“How many of you have actually read the chapters?”

There was some awkward shuffling throughout, Clementine included. Alice shot her an amused look, though, technically, she hadn’t read the assignment either. The class was focused on many stories that Alice had read growing up, so she hadn’t even rented the textbook.

Professor Kelan sighed again. “Does anyone really _want_ to be here today?”

While Alice enjoyed the class discussions, she wasn’t foolish enough to raise her hand. Not when the professor looked like that, anyway. No one was.

The professor clapped his hands together, straightening slightly. “Excellent. Do you reading for this week and for last week. Class dismissed.”

With that, he picked up his bag and slumped out, several students right on his tail. Alice made note of them as people to avoid for the end of semester research project, though she knew who she would pick if the professor allowed them to choose. She leaned down to pick up her backpack, returning her notebook and swinging it onto her back.

“What now?” Drake asked, standing and pulling on a light rain jacket.

Clementine looked at Alice. Alice looked back. They both grinned, heading toward the door.

“I _swear_ you two are telepathic,” Drake muttered, but followed.

* * *

The police station was fairly familiar and, in turn, the officers were fairly familiar with them. It was a surprisingly useful thing, given how Alice was fairly certain that most of the force was corrupt and the rest were too wet behind the ears to be useful. Regardless, it meant that when a man on the street had directed his phone up Clementine’s skirt and then tried to press charges after Clementine broke his nose and phone, the officer that had taken her in simply called Drake to come pick her up and stuck the man into the drunk tank.

It hadn’t stopped Drake from dragging Clementine to Alice’s apartment so that they could eat ice cream and loosely attempt to convince Drake that they thought Clem had overdone it, but Alice wasn’t sure how it would have gone if not for their knowledge of the force. Alice didn’t like looking too far into things as it was, and with something like that she didn’t really need to.

When they walked into the station, Clementine made a beeline for the newest officer, a nervous looking woman called Malley, towing Drake with her. Alice watched them go, stopping at the front desk.

“Hello, Charleston,” she said cheerfully, though it was hard not to curse her luck. Most of the officers hadn’t minded being interviewed about the Bats or letting them take pictures of the precinct, but Charleston was the one that had made Alice actually start believing that the force was as corrupt as some conspiracy boards liked to think. She wasn’t sure whose pocket he lived in, but it was certainly a deep one.

The man eyed her warily behind his thick glasses. “Elroy. I thought that script of yours was finished.”

Alice nodded. “It is. And my cast list. Is the Commissioner in?” Somehow, despite all the times they’d come for interviews or for Drake’s major, they’d never actually managed to talk to the man that served as the Batman’s main contact with the police force. It was almost enough to make Alice suspect a conspiracy.

The way that Charleston paused, clearly considering, helpfully added a confirmation point to that theory. He opened his mouth, expression smug, but then his gaze slid behind her and he became the very picture of annoyance. It was kind of impressive, actually.

Alice turned, half expecting to see an actual problem, but to her delight it was only a bemused Commissioner Gordon. He regarded her as she grinned, then sighed.

“I suppose you’re the ones I’ve been warned about?”

“You’ve heard of us?” Clementine asked, all of her weight slamming into Alice’s shoulder with enough force to make her stagger. Drake, jogging forward on her other side, reached out to steady her and they exchanged amused glances.

“Good things, I hope,” Alice added.

Gordon chuckled. “For the most part. I’m told you’ll probably just want pictures at this point?”

“For your office,” Drake agreed. “We don’t use it much, and most of it will be dark, but we wanted to get an idea of the layout.”

Gordon’s gaze lingered on Drake, long enough that Clementine started fidgeting, then he nodded and turned away. “This way, then. Maybe you’ll be able to figure out how the Bat always sneaks out when I look away.”

Drake brightened immediately and eagerly slipped into the room, making Gordon raise a brow at Clem and Alice. They both smiled innocently at him while his eyebrow crept ever higher.

Alice waited until she couldn’t hear Drake puttering around in the office anymore, then said, “He has some gymnastics experience.”

“What does that have…?” Gordon blinked owlishly as Drake trotted down the hall behind them and swung his arm around Clementine’s shoulders. Gordon turned and looked into his office, then back at Drake.

“The fire escape,” Drake said, taking pity on the man more quickly than Alice would have. He’d been hard to get a hold of, and while some of that might be because there were people going against them she was still rather annoyed.

Gordon stepped into his office and they followed him, Drake joining him at the window. “See how sturdy it is? Looks as good as new.”

“That’s standard,” Gordon argued.

Drake cast him an amused look, likely considering the highly lethal fire escapes on practically every building in Gotham, then said, “Sure. Still makes for a quick and quiet exit if you do it right.” Drake pushed the window open without a sound and slipped out, hooked his feet on the opposite railing, and flipped himself off of the fire escape and to the ground where he tumbled smoothly back to his feet.

“Ta da!” he called up to them, spreading his arms.

Alice and Clementine clapped, though Alice paused when a flash of red caught her eye on the rooftop across the street. The red paused long enough for her to recognize Hood’s helmet, then, with a salute she couldn’t help labeling cheeky, he vanished again. Alice covered her mouth with one hand to hide a smile, though Clementine was giving her a curious look that likely meant it didn’t work. When Alice shook her head, Clementine shrugged and turned to the office, raising her phone and snapping photos.

"I got a few pictures of that," Drake said, stretching his arms over his head as he reentered the office through the door. "It's not like we'll ask Richard to fling himself off of some Papier Mache staircase, but it's good to have. This was the last part we need for the set pieces, right, Alice?"

"Right," she confirmed brightly. "You both have Don's contact information, yeah?"

"Already sent him the pictures," Clementine confirmed, while Drake nodded.

"You have a lot of people in on this," Gordon commented, still peering at the fire escape like he couldn’t quite believe it was there. Or maybe it was just that Batman always slipped out so easily and he’d never considered it. Of course, the Bat probably used a grappling hook to get to the other rooftop or something, but it was probably as good as mundane humans could replicate.

"Course we do," Drake said with a laugh. "People love the Bat and the Birds. And the Bucket Head.” Gordon’s expression twisted into something between confused and pained, but Drake barreled on; “Alice isn't the first person to start this kind of thing, but she's actually doing what it takes to get it going. We've actually gotten a few sponsors out of people who've been saved by Batman. Sure, it's her final project, but Gotham and her people are helping us make it more."

Gordon looked between them, then sighed. "I can see that," he said. "Can I expect to get a copy?"

"For sure! We're going to post it online, too, probably," Clementine said, “but we’ll send you the link first if you’d like.”

Commissioner Gordon nodded, stepping toward the door once again. They followed him without complaint, though he paused just outside the precinct doors. “Be careful,” he said, looking them over. “It sounds like you’ve been getting some attention on this. You don’t want it to go the wrong way.”

Alice quickly assured him, “It’s alright. We’ve planned for that and we know how to stay pretty safe. I have friends that can help if we get into trouble, too.”

The commissioner looked, briefly, like he wanted to ask what kind of friends he had, but then he simply grimaced and repeated, “Be careful,” before going back into the precinct.

Clementine waited until the door was closed before she leaned over and hummed, “So, you and Red Hood are friends now, hm? But that was plural. Who else is there?”

Alice laughed, shoving her gently and skipping down the last few steps. “Come on, Clem. I won’t give up secrets that aren’t mine.”

Clementine chased after her, Drake following them at a more sedate pace. “Does that mean you know more heroes?” she gasped, pressing her hands to her chest. “Alice Angelica Elroy-Vertur, you’ve been holding out on us!”

“Angelica isn’t my middle name,” Alice remarked with a laugh.

“Semantics,” Clementine huffed. “That wasn’t an answer!”

“Plead the fifth,” Alice sang, and laughed again at Clementine’s cry of mock-outrage.


	7. Home Invasions and Mac'n'Cheese

Alice paused at her door, cocking her head. Something was…odd. She wasn’t sure what it was, but her samurai earrings were swaying gently like they could feel it too. Slowly, Alice pressed her ear to her door.

A low murmur of voices, just above a whisper, greeted her. Someone laughed and she relaxed despite herself, stepping away from the door and crossing her arms. Honestly, no one would blame her for calling the police right then. They’d probably slip out the window, anyway, so there wasn’t much of a point.

Alice unlocked the door and pushed it open, pausing when she saw that it was dark in her apartment. Even with the light from the hall, she couldn’t see anything out of its place, save the single paper samurai standing in one of her shoes with its arms crossed, facing the kitchen. Alice sighed and stepped inside, considering the silence.

“Why are you all just sitting in the dark?” she asked finally. “I _have_ lights.”

“And we have dark vision,” Hood replied, which Alice took as a signal to flick the light switch. If he wasn’t prepared, it was his own fault.

Then she looked at the kitchen and promptly dropped her bag. “Oh my god.”

“Yo,” Red Hood said, though his voice didn’t come from under the helmet-bucket. Instead, he was wearing a red hoodie that was at least two sizes too large and therefore swamped his face completely in shadow. He was eating macaroni and cheese out of her lone pot, and he waved at her with a yellowed fork while holding the pot out of Nightwing’s reach.

Red Robin, sitting in the window with his feet propped on the sill, his back on the base of the window, and a laptop on his stomach, glanced over and also waved. Alice let her gaze linger on him, then on the second paper samurai hooked on the curtain rod and peering down at him, then looked back toward her kitchen and the dining table.

Black Bat was sitting on the table, staring back at Alice. Batgirl was sitting on one of the chairs, like a _normal_ person, and when Alice looked at her she smiled.

“Do you need to sit down?” she asked, reaching over to pull out another chair.

Slowly, Alice closed her door, stepped forward, and sat. She looked back at Red Robin, trying to determine if that was comfortable, then gave it up as a lost cause and focused on Nightwing and Red Hood. Nightwing had a hand in Hood’s helmet and a knee on the countertop, straining for the pot that Hood was still determinedly holding above him.

“You’d better replace that,” she said, pointing at Hood.

He turned his head toward her, wriggling one foot out of his pretzeled legs to push Nightwing away, and replied, “Yes, ma’am.” Then, with the angle of his head giving her the impression that he was making direct eye contact with Nightwing, he shoveled a massive bite of the macaroni onto the fork and into the depths of the non-helmet hood.

Alice looked back at Black Bat. She didn’t have the full-head cowl that Alice had heard about. Instead, her hair hung in her face and framed her eyes, which were covered by a mask that pointed sharply at both ends like the mask Huntress tended to wear. Black Bat was still staring at her, achieving weimaraner levels of uncanniness, so Alice turned to Batgirl.

“Can I…help you?” she asked, not quite sure where the conversation was going to go. Then, with a burst of inspiration that she didn’t quite manage to realize was likely incorrect before she said it, added, “Your parts are already taken.”

Red hood laughed, then choked and began coughing madly. Nightwing paused to yank the pot out of his hands and set it on the table, close enough that Alice could see fork-marks on the metal, then smacked him on the back until he stopped coughing and went back to laughing.

“We’re not here for that,” Batgirl said, eyes alight with mirth. “Hood gave away our numbers without asking, so we wanted to meet you.”

“I asked!” Hood protested.

“You asked what my number _was_ ,” Batgirl corrected without missing a beat. “You did not, however, ask if you could give it to a civilian.”

Maybe Alice had finally lost her mind, and that was what was really going on. Black Bat clicked her fingers and Alice looked at her as she flicked through some rapid hand signs. Black Bat didn’t feature overmuch in the film, mostly because she didn’t seem as active or well known around Gotham, but June had mentioned that she knew sign language when she’d brought up the role. Now Alice knew why, and was mildly annoyed at herself for not thinking more about Black Bat’s reported silence.

“Right,” Batgirl said, drawing Alice’s attention. “Could I see the phone Hood gave you?”

“Sure.” Alice pulled it out of her pocket, paused to make sure it was the right one, and passed it to Batgirl.

The red haired woman flipped it open, paused, and then questioned, “Mug Thief?”

Red Robin’s head snapped up and he shouted, “I brought them back!” From Batgirl’s expression, that illuminated nothing.

It was possible that Alice should have thought about it a little more before handing the device over. All the same, Alice hesitantly explained, “I figured I shouldn’t have the actual names. You know, in case the phone gets stolen or I lose it.”

Batgirl smiled. “Not-Drake. Who’s that?”

“Nightwing,” Alice sighed, sitting back and hoping that her face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Drake Ororu is playing Nightwing.”

“Clark Todd,” Batgirl continued, though Alice wasn’t sure how she was picking out the names. It certainly wasn’t alphabetical. “Is that Hood?”

Red Hood made a strangled noise and, for a moment, the whole room seemed to go unnervingly still.

“No,” Alice replied, glancing around at them. Just as fast as the tension had appeared, though, it was gone, so she continued, “It’s Batman. We wanted a basic name and it might defeat the purpose if I called him Bruce Wayne.”

A smile flickered across Batgirl’s face and she nodded slowly. “Of course. Which one is Red Hood?”

“Fido,” Alice said cheerfully.

Red Robin started to say something, but it was drowned of as Hood launched himself off of the counter and over to Batgirl with a rather impressive screech of “ _Fido_? What the fuck, Playwright?”

Alice faltered, startled by the address that was, as far as she knew, not widely known. She couldn’t remember if she’d told Hood about her secret role in the script, though, so she forced a shrug and said, “Hey, if you’re going to be entering through the dog door, I might as well pick a dog’s name.”

“What about, like, Cerberus?” Hood asked petulantly. “That’s cool!”

“You think you’re cool?” Alice asked, and silence fell once again. Before she could backpedal, there was a clatter as Red Robin slid out the window cackling, dropping his laptop on the floor. The Reds laughed alike; maybe they were related.

“Who is Aspasia?” Batgirl asked.

“You,” Alice told her. “Drake picked it. She was an ancient philosopher, I think. He likes those kinds of things and I didn’t want to use the others he tried.” Then, predicting the next question, “Black Bat is July, because it’s after June and June is the one playing Black Bat.”

She glanced at Black Bat, who at the very least didn’t seem to dislike the name, then back at Batgirl as she said, “The last one is Lucy. Is that Robin?”

Alice nodded. “Diminutive Lucifer.”

Batgirl coughed. Nightwing made a sound of dramatic offense. Alice pointed at Red Hood. Red Hood also gasped, his managing to sound betrayed, and grabbed the pot of macaroni, making Nightwing charge him. Red Robin was still lying on the floor, back to his laptop, but Alice thought he looked amused. Black Bat was harder to read than the faceless samurai.

Alice sat back slowly, taking her phone back when Batgirl offered it. “Are you all related somehow?” she asked, watching Nightwing try to follow Red Hood on top of the refrigerator.

“How do you think we are?” Batgirl asked as Nightwing got on top of the fridge in time to receive a kick to the face as Red Hood launched away.

Alice turned to consider them all. “The Reds and Nightwing are brothers, and Batman is their dad,” she said slowly. “And Robin is…Nightwing’s son, maybe? Which leaves out you two, so maybe you’re Robin’s sister,” she pointed at Black Bat, “and you’re his…mom?” She peered at Batgirl, who, at least, didn’t seem offended by the suggestion. She and Nightwing were supposed to have been in a relationship at one point and maybe still were, after all.

“You’re not wrong, exactly,” Batgirl said slowly. “But you’re also wrong.” That said, she grinned like a cat. Nightwing, who had trapped Hood in a headlock and taken away the pot for a second time, also grinned. He grinned sort of like a dog, if Batgirl was a cat. Maybe he should be Fido, but then who would Hood be? Not-Jason?

“Oh,” Alice realized, the thought making her turn to Hood. “Turns out that you didn’t need to break in to get your part first, anyway. Jason never messaged me.”

“He didn’t?” Nightwing gasped, oddly offended.

“How rude,” Red Robin added, huffing out a laugh in the dorm of a sharp exhale through his nose.

“He should have,” Batgirl said, her voice the picture of disapproving mother. Maybe she really was Robin’s mom. “You seem very nice.”

Black Bat nodded, staring intensely at Red Hood. Hood squirmed away from Nightwing and showed both middle fingers to the room at large. Alice took in their reactions, observing that they were all staring intently at Hood, and firmly decided that she didn’t want to know.

Instead, she said, “It isn’t much of a problem. I had plenty of people contact me about being interested and then never say anything again, so at least he skipped the whole process. It worked out in the end.”

“It’s still rude,” Batgirl said firmly.

Alice shrugged uncertainly. “Well, without Hood coming by for the part I wouldn’t have ended up meeting all of you, which is really better than I could have hoped for. Even if you stole my mugs.”

“I brought them back!” Red Robin protested.

“You asked if you could keep them first,” Alice reminded him. “Including my _ramen_ mug. Why would you want that in the first place?”

Red Robin sat up and crossed his arms. “It can hold a lot,” he grumbled sulkily.

“You’re _Red Robin_. Go to a Red Robin and they’ll give you a giant mug. They have them.”

Red Hood and Nightwing made a simultaneous noise of smothered laughter and Red Robin's pout deepened.

"How did you find out about them?" Nightwing asked, giggles punctuating the question.

"Lily has one," Alice replied, grinning despite herself. Red Robin was pouting _and_ glaring. When he caught Alice looking at him, he pointedly turned his head in the other direction, which she took to mean that the teasing wasn’t really bothering him all that much. That was good.

"And who, pray tell, is Lily?" Red Hood asked, glee filling his voice. Oh, so he hadn't told the others about all of their actors; Alice assumed he had when Batgirl didn’t react to Batman as Bruce Wayne, but maybe he’d only shared that part. Alice almost wished that she'd been able to find a girl who wanted to play him.

"Lily is a big fan of yours," Alice said instead, facing Red Robin. "She's playing you in my film. If I borrowed her mug, would you sign it?"

Red Robin was silent for a long moment, clearly considering, then he muttered, "Yeah. Sure." He cocked his head to the side. "We've got to go," he said, already out the window, and Hood groaned, but headed for the window after him.

Alice and Nightwing moved at the same time, both grabbing one of his arms.

"Leave the pot," Nightwing said.

"I'll put the food in a container for you, but you're washing it, not me," Alice added.

"What?" Hood protested. "I'm not doing your dishes!" He leaned toward her, the slant of his body enough that she suspected he was attempting some kind of pathetic stare.

Alice frowned at him, taking a single step away so she wouldn't be tempted to look under his hood. "You made it, you wash it," she pointed out. "Especially when you didn't share."

"I, what? You weren't here! How was I supposed to share?"

"You didn't share with any of them, either. Nightwing," Alice paused, realizing again that she was casually addressing a superhero, and not even one that she knew well, "weren't you trying to have some?"

"Uh," Nighwing replied helpfully, so Alice decided to ignore him and look pointedly at Hood instead.

"I'll put it in a container," she repeated. "You have to wash it and the fork you used. By the way, you better not have scratched the pan with it. I only have the one right now."

Red Hood groaned, but turned and marched over to the sink. Alice followed him, stooping to pull out a little glass container. "I'll bring that back, too," he said, watching as she transferred the macaroni and cheese.

"Sounds good. I assume you'll break in that time, too?"

"It's not breaking in if you don't lock the door!" Red Hood scrubbed the pot furiously, apparently uncaring about the newly saturated and probably cheesy state of his gloves.

"It's a dog door for a drone. Not for humans. I'm not locking it, because you shouldn't be able to get in. I swear, you're almost as flexible as Drake." Probably more, given Hood’s apparent profession, but still.

"That the guy doing flips off of the commissioner's fire escape?" Nightwing asked, making Alice glance over at him in surprise.

"Yeah. He's the one I mentioned before. What did you think when you saw him?"

Nightwing inclined his head, then nodded. "He’s good.”

"Great!" It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement, but it would probably still make Drake happy.

Red Hood set the pot on the drying rack and flicked water off of his gloves, without much result. "There. Happy?"

"You're free to go." Alice swept a bow, waving her hand at the window. When she straightened, they were both gone. She moved to the window and closed it, checking again that the dog door and window were both fine.

Satisfied, she turned away from them to survey her apartment again. There weren’t many samurai about; she hadn’t wanted to overdo it and it was comforting to have even one of them in each room. As it was, she had the one by the door, one in the living room, and one in the kitchen-slash-dining room, though if any of the Bats had noticed them they hadn’t made it obvious. The only metal ones were in her bedroom, three of them in total, all about as tall as her hand. Eight samurai, counting her earrings, Nine counting Drake’s, and eleven counting Clementine’s earrings.

It was enough. Alice didn’t need more than that. If she did, she didn’t think any number of samurai would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so! I'm going to be on hold with the updates for another while, probably for the rest of the year. COVID is on the rise again in my college's state and in my home state both (and possibly other places but I'm not sure?) and while you'd expect that to mean I have more free time, it actually means all of my professors said: "Hey! Let's give our students extra assignments!" This is probably a good pause point. Sorry to do this to ya'll. I'll try to keep updating if I have time.


	8. Flowers and other Dangerous Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE!!!!!

Alice looked up as Clementine set a flower crown on her head. The paper flowers held up well to Clementine’s ministrations, as evidenced by the matching crown on Drake and the necklace Clementine had given herself. Clementine was working on another crown, watching a young couple across the park with a suspicious gleam in her eye.

Alice left her to it, balancing the sketchbook more securely on her knees as she pulled more flowers from the pages. She set them in the box at their feet, smiling fondly when she saw that the box had almost been emptied again. Alice had learned early in her arrival that Gotham wasn’t like Central City, where there wasn’t much to fear from gifts on street corners. In Gotham, though, even something as innocuous as paper flowers would be treated with suspicion.

So, after a bit of trial and error, Alice had found that making the flowers right in front of the box helped, if she was subtle about the actual creation process. If Drake was working on his classes, textbook open in front of him and a notebook on his knees, and Clementine was tapping away on her computer and humming cheerfully to herself, then people were even more likely to come and look. With the three of them, they had naturally moved to a picnic blanket on the dreary park and it was as if a beacon had been lit.

It was a curious thing, certainly, but Alice needed to practice and there was only so much she could do with the things she made. Passing out the flowers meant that people smiled more. Gotham seemed a little lighter, for all that the sky remained perpetually dreary. Doing it so close to Halloween meant that people were a little warier, but the flower crowns had, it seemed, put them back in the Gothamite’s favor.

Her phone buzzed and she paused, a paper sunflower half formed under her fingers. Alice quickly tugged it free, grimacing. She couldn’t make them very fast, but she’d certainly gotten faster with practice. Practice made perfect. She’d gotten the idea from one of her friends in Central, though he hadn’t done it deliberately. It was, she privately thought, rather funny that she’d improved her creation speed thanks to advice from that particular friend.

“Drake,” she said, and he lifted his head slowly enough that the crown wouldn’t fall. “Want a page marker?”

Drake accepted the ruined sunflower, folding the edges down so that it looked a little less…unfortunate. “Thanks,” he hummed, then bent his head over the textbook again. _Crime and Criminal Justice_ didn’t seem like the most entertaining read, but he’d talked about what he was learning and always sounded excited about it.

Alice looked down at her phone, considering the text.

Unknown (13:14)

Hey, figured i should touch base with you about this whole thing

She tipped to the side and showed the message to Clementine. “Did you give someone my number?”

“I promised I wouldn’t try setting you up with anyone again,” Clementine responded. “If I did, it would’ve been before that. Here.”

She plucked Alice’s phone free and twisted, angling her body so that Alice couldn’t see the screen without moving. Alice huffed and set aside her sketchbook, then circled around Drake to get to Clem. The redhead leaned away, humming cheerfully, and Alice set her hands on Clem’s shoulders and curled over her, setting her chin on Clementine’s head.

“Clem,” she sighed.

Clementine bowed forward, not trying to hide the phone so much as stop Alice from getting it. Alice looked at Drake for help and found that he was no longer focused on his textbook and had, instead, produced a box of crayons from somewhere and was coloring on the sunflower bookmark while two other crayons were tucked under his upper lip like walrus tusks. Alice fondly remembered when he had seemed like a normal person, to the point that Alice wasn’t sure if he was right for Clementine. She had said as much, too.

It was a good that Clementine didn’t listen to anyone.

She poked Clementine in the side and Clementine squawked, squirming away from her and flinging Alice's phone at Drake. His hand snapped out and caught it, then he looked up with an air of surprise.

“Drake,” Alice warned, holding out his hand.

Drake looked at Clementine, who was frantically shaking her head, then handed Alice’s phone back to its proper owner. She smiled at him while Clementine moaned dramatically.

Alice (13:20)

Is this a hottie looking for a date?

Unknown (13:21)

uh no

I mean yeah I’m hot

but that’s not what I wanted to talk about

the date I mean not the hotness factor

i mean

fuck

wait this is clementine isnt it

“Clem,” Alice threatened, and Clem hastily slipped to Drake’s other side. Drake gave her an unimpressed look, then heaved a sigh and offered Alice a shrug. He started to open his mouth, but hastily stopped when the crayons started to fall.

Alice (13:24)

Hi, this is Alice! What did you want to talk about?

Unknown (13:25)

k cool this is Jason

you offered me the red hood gig

Alice (13:26)

Yep, I remember! I’m sorry if you were interested, but we found someone that’s a better fit for the role

Jason (13:26)

a better fit? really?

wait

I mean that’s fine

I wanted to tell you I wasn’t intrested anyway

*interested

Alice (13:27)

Great! I’m glad it worked itself out, then. Thanks for letting me know!

Alice waited a moment, but he didn’t respond again so she passed her phone to Drake. He was unlikely to try to text anything else to Jason, and he could stop Clementine long enough for Alice to get her phone back.

“You okay with this?” he asked, finally looking back to Alice.

“Sure,” she replied easily. “I have Red Hood playing Red Hood. You think I’m going to complain just because one cute guy isn’t interested?”

Clementine’s head snapped up like a dog that had spotted a squirrel. It was concerning, seeing as she was looking right at Alice and Alice wasn’t sure what had prompted it. “Cute,” she said, and it occurred to Alice that, yes, she had said that, hadn’t she?

“Well,” she said carefully, “it’s true. You know my type. He’s it.”

“True, but you actually _saying_ that someone is cu—“ Clementine stopped, eyes wide. She pressed a hand to her mouth and whispered, “Oh my god.”

Drake and Alice looked at each other. "Did I break her?" Alice asked carefully.

Before Drake could answer, Clementine squealed, "You have a crush!"

"Oh," Drake murmured, his face splitting in a grin.

"You've lost me," Alice admitted.

Clementine bounced in place, clasping her hands together. "You have a crush," her voice dropped to a whisper, "on Red Hood."

"Never mind. _Now_ you've lost me."

"You totally do," Drake said.

Alice squinted at her. “Evidence?” she prompted a touch helplessly.

Clementine grinned and held up a finger. “First, you let him in your apartment. You don’t even get stressed about it.”

“He’s not the worst thing that could be consistently breaking and entering,” Alice reminded her.

“But he’s not one of the targets for your samurai, is he?” Drake asked, grinning in a way that was distinctly, disarmingly devious.

"Well, duh. It's not a secret, but I'm not going to advertise it, especially when there are so few of us in Gotham. And besides, I did that for you guys, too. I did it for the _drone_. What makes this any different from having a sort of annoying pet? It's not like I can see his face."

Drake and Clementine looked at each other, then at Alice. Clementine put her hands on Alice's shoulders. "Okay. Picture Jason." Alice inclined her head, bemused, and Clem continued, "Now, picture Jason as Red Hood."

Hastily, Drake added, "Not for the movie. Like Jason is _actually_ Red Hood."

Alice's lips pressed together, her eyes narrowed as she looked into the distance. After a moment, she inhaled deeply. "Oh. Oh, no." She stepped back, out of Clementine's grasp. "Okay. Let's look at this rationally. Red Hood could look like anyone."

“You always smile when you talk about him,” Clementine pointed out.

Alice didn’t argue that it was because he was a superhero, mostly because doing so wouldn’t actually be true. Clem and Drake wouldn’t know that it wasn’t true, but _Alice_ would and that meant that she couldn’t say it even to convince herself.

Instead, Alice pulled out her batphone and held up a finger to stave off any other points. "Okay. Hold this thought because I need to check one more thing before I actually accept this, and if I'm going to accept it, we need to determine how…” she made a vague gesture with one hand, “it is."

"What thing?" Clementine asked, head cocked to the side.

"Age."

Drake winced. "Ooh, yeah, that's an issue."

“How?” Clementine demanded, high with offense. “He can’t be younger than us.”

“Yeah, but he could be older. Like, way older. Batman older.”

Clementine pulled a face, so Alice took it as acceptance.

Alice (13:33)

Hey how old are you?

Fido (13:34)

Uh

Well, I've been alive for about twenty or so years.

"Okay, he's twenty...ish. Potential distress averted," Drake said. "What's with the 'uh' though?

Clementine peeked at the message. "Yeah. He's 'been alive' for that long? How long was he dead?"

"Knowing the world we live in, I'm not even going to ask," Alice responded decisively, typing out a quick thanks before she returned the phone to her pocket. She took a deep breath, then let it out again. "Okay. Now. _What the fuck_? This is so unrealistic! I shouldn't even _be_ kind-of-sort-of friends with a superhero! A sidekick, maybe, but a superhero? That's just asking to get abducted, and I do _not_ want to be Lois Lane, thank you very much!"

"You're cooler than Lois Lane," Drake said.

"Plus you can totally catch kidnappers off guard if you have the right stuff," Clementine added, nodding at the flowers.

Drake shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hypothetically, just making sure that you guys know, who is Lois Lane?" They looked at Drake. He held up his hands defensively.

"Almost definitely Superman's girlfriend," Alice said at last.

"Assuming that the rumors about him dating Batman aren't true," Clementine added.

Drake nodded slowly, mouthing _Lois Lane_ with a puzzled expression.

"But look," Clementine said, waving off her boyfriend. "You're strong enough not to be a damsel, you're resourceful, hell, even if Hood hadn't swept in that time you probably would have figured something out and wiped the floor with those creeps. You're not exactly powerless, Al. So that's one problem out of the way."

"Please never call me Al again." Alice dropped onto the bench, staring at the pile of Drake's crayons. "Why can't I just be normal and like normal guys and not guys who have funny hair and nice laughs and decapitation?"

Clementine patted Alice's shoulder, shoulders trembling even though her face was straight. "You're just a tiny bit homicidal at heart, and you want the people who are mostly homicidal to balance you out."

Alice buried her face in her hands and groaned.

* * *

Jason straightened at the sound of the door opening, setting down the little paper samurai that he’d been fiddling with and grabbing the box of macaroni and cheese instead. Alice stepped inside, pausing to set down a box. When she looked up, Jason proudly held up the new box of macaroni and cheese.

Alice stopped, halfway through the motion to take off her jacket. She looked at Jason for a long moment, then her gaze drifted to where Damian was scowling at her from the back of the couch. Jason had to admit, he was impressed by how quickly she noticed the little demon given that he was pretty far out of her immediate line of sight. Damian twitched, like he was going to grab for the sword Jason had confiscated before he let Damian come anywhere near her place, so he probably noticed it too and liked it a whole lot less than Jason did.

For a long moment, Alice stayed where she was, simply looking between them. She glanced past Jason, to the window. Jason couldn’t help following her gaze; if she’d spotted Damian that fast, it wouldn’t have surprised him if she’d noticed one of the others lurking outside. If anyone had been there, Jason couldn’t see them.

“Nope,” Alice said, and by the time Jason turned back to her the door was clicking shut and she was gone.

Jason blinked at the door, absently picking up the samurai again. It was a neat little thing, intricately folded and detailed enough that he had to wonder if it had been machine made. There were a handful of them peppered about the apartment, but the one that he’d picked out had little blue spots on its paper pauldrons like teardrops. He liked it, though he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he liked about it since the blue spots weren’t exactly his style.

“Rude,” Damian huffed, making him look away from the little samurai.

“You probably scared her,” Jason said, though he couldn’t help frowning.

He hopped off the counter and walked over to the door, looking down at the box she’d brought in. It didn’t look like anything special, just the kind of thing that would hold packages, but it had the top flaps cut off of it. A few paper flowers were inside, just as crisp as the samurai and easy to identify, and what looked to be the remains of a tattered sketchbook. Not even the cardboard backing remained.

Jason picked up a somewhat crushed daffodil and spun it in his fingers, then tucked it into a gap in the samurai’s back plate and switched on his comm.

“Dick,” he whined, “she’s being weird.”

Damian clicked his tongue at Jason, still glaring at the door. There was an odd sound over the comms, like stifled laughter.

Batman’s ‘work voice’ slowly asked, “Who?”

Jason fumbled, nearly smacking himself in the ear in his rush to change the channel. Dick's private channel was easy to find; he just had to get to the one that was cackling in a voice deeper than Replacement's. He stepped over to the kitchen counter and put the samurai back in its spot, flicking it over since he couldn’t exactly smack Dick or Replacement at the moment.

"Define being weird," Dick said after a moment, bright and entirely too amused about Jason’s misfortune.

"She just came in and noped out again," Jason grumbled.

"Maybe she's tired of you breaking in."

“Hey!”

"Father, the Vertur girl is impolite and crass," the demon snapped before Jason could come up with a better retort. "She is an excellent match for Todd. I do not know what you see in her."

"Hey!" Jason brought a hand down on the counter, then jerked it up when pain sliced through his palm. "What the hell?" he muttered, looking first at the red line that was oozing from his palm, then at the counter. He'd put his hand right on the origami samurai's sword, judging by its crumbled state. He swiped the blood away with his thumb and picked up the samurai, the daffodil falling to the counter.

"What's this thing made of?" He idly straightened the sword as he turned the origami figure.

Damien glanced over. "It's paper, Todd. Apparently, even I misjudged your stupidity."

Jason considered that, debated how to best respond, and then pitched the samurai at Damien sword first. If flew surprisingly well for being made out of paper, but that just meant Damien smacked it out of the air. Or he tried to. Instead the sword stuck in his glove, the samurai holding its arm out like the sword was a spear. Damien scowled and yanked the samurai out, dropping it. It landed on its feet, swaying briefly before it steadied, and Damian clicked again as he examined his hand. Jason took the moment to look at his own hand, where the samurai’s sword had left something that looked less like a paper and more like the time Jason had sliced his hand open trying to cut an apple.

"If I will not be meeting the girl you all have become so interested in, I will be leaving," Damian announced to the room, then stormed to the window and climbed out, vanishing before Jason could point out that they _had_ met. Maybe it was because Robin hadn’t met her.

Jason rolled his eyes and moved away from the kitchen, picking up the samurai. He tugged absently at the folds Damian had wrinkled and was pleased when its form returned to almost normal. The sword was a little crumpled and the pronged helmet was askew, but it was close enough. He set it back on the counter, grabbing the daffodil and leaning it beside the samurai. They were about the same size; the samurai was only a bit taller.

"Watch the house until she gets back," he told it sternly, then snickered and turned away.

Paper rustled, so soft that he could have imagined it.

Jason swiveled, but the samurai hadn't moved. He stared at it for another moment, then stepped toward the window. The samurai didn’t move, which made sense, so he huffed and continued forward. He had turned a samurai made from crisp, leaf green paper away from the window when he'd first climbed in, so Jason returned it to its former position as he left. They were cool little things. He'd have to ask Alice where she got them.


	9. Secret Friends and Super Friends

Alice scrolled through her messages, unable to help a smile as she reviewed the photos that the contact labeled ‘NYOOM NYOOM’ had sent her. She didn’t have the heart to change it, and if he was going to be texting her photos of superheroes, it was probably a good thing. She didn’t think that she’d be able to explain away the existence of a picture of Green Lantern with orange juice coming out of his nose, anyway.

Alice (10:47)

I thought yellow things were supposed to be his weakness. Orange is close enough I guess

NYOOM NYOOM (10:48)

hold that thought

Alice obliged, lifting her head as Clementine trotted over to the table and took a seat across from her. Clem passed over a steaming cup and kept one with ice cubes in it for herself, then ducked under the table to grab a stack of flashcards from her backpack.

“You know,” Clementine said as she started to lay out the cards, “he’s going to notice that you’re avoiding him.”

“It’s not like I’m hiding it,” Alice pointed out.

“Yeah, but it isn’t sustainable.” Clementine paused, eyeing the cards, then flipped one over. She smirked and took a sip of her drink. Probably iced coffee, knowing her. “He could always find out where I live and then you’re running out of places to hide. Drake loves you, but I don’t think you’re allowed in the House.”

Alice waved a hand dismissively. “The guys like me, too. They’d let me stay. I could become an honorary brother.”

“I don’t think fraternities work that way,” Clementine hummed. She flipped another card and huffed, then shuffled all the cards together. “Especially not the ones that are specific to majors.”

Alice stuck out her tongue. “Spoilsport.”

Her phone buzzed and she focused on it, leaving Clementine to grumble over the flashcards. She had received a video from NYOOM NYOOM, something of a rarity but preferable when most of the pictures he sent were painfully blurry. She tapped it.

Green Lantern sat at what looked like a cafeteria table, mopping at his face and scowling at someone off camera. The edge of a red shoulder made Alice think that it was the Flash. The camera jostled and pointed downward, and a hand that Alice assumed was her friend’s held up a lemon. Her assumption was confirmed when he shouted, “Think fast!” and pitched the lemon at Green Lantern.

Green Lantern’s head swiveled just in time for the lemon to bean him in the forehead. He squawked and pitched backward off of his seat, landing loudly on the floor. Laughter sounded from several sides of the camera, then Green Lantern emerged from behind the table, murder on his face. The camera swept to the side, scenery blurring, and the video ended.

NYOOM NYOOM (11:00)

cannot confirm or deny; surprise factor caused difficulty; require further testing

Alice pressed a hand to her mouth to hide her amusement. The last thing she needed was Clementine asking what made her laugh. Clem was already giving her a suspicious look, but she seemed distracted by her cards.

Alice (11:01)

Agreed. Propose additional tests with lemonade, bananas, etc.

NYOOM NYOOM (11:01)

Mac’n’cheese

Alice (11:02)

Yes. Plz keep me updated

NYOOM NYOOM (11:02)

ofc

we still on for the holiday?

Alice (11:03)

Yup. I’ll prob come home at the end of November. Looking forward to it. No getting deadified before then

NYOOM NYOOM (11:05)

I get deadified ONE TIME

Alice (11:06)

On my birthday

NYOOM NYOOM (11:07)

I SAID I WAS SORRY

Alice (11:08)

Happy Birthday Alice, also your best friend was late to your party cuz he’s dead

but you can’t tell anyone

like seriously no one can know

have a great bday!

NYOOM NYOOM (11:10)

im so sorry

but I got better!

Alice (11:11)

:<

“Who’re you texting?” Clementine asked, peering at Alice over the rim of her mug.

“A superhero,” Alice replied easily.

Clementine snorted. “Yeah, I bet you’ve got loads of super contacts. Got any villains?”

Alice considered. “Two,” she said at last. “And a half,” because she had the phone number for the bar, too.

Clementine laughed. “Ah, to be as popular as you. Seriously, though, who’re you texting?”

“One of my friends back home. We’ve got plans to meet up when I get back and I’m nagging him about the time he missed my birthday party.”

Clementine gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Unforgiveable! Someone I should know?”

Alice shrugged. “I’ve mentioned him a few times, but we didn’t become friends until my last few years of high school.”

Clementine nodded sagely. She rifled through the cards. “I think you should text Hood. Don’t want him getting jealous of your other _super_ friends.”

Alice smiled faintly. “No.”

“Alice,” Clem whined, leaning across the table and stretching her arms toward Alice.

Alice pulled away, deleting the chat with NYOOM NYOOM. She wanted to keep it, but pictures like that shouldn’t be easily spotted and it was safest not to have them at all. Besides, he was sending her a series of plaintive messages so the chat would return quickly. “If he wanted to talk, he’d make an effort. I just need to avoid him until this,” she gestured vaguely at herself, “goes away.”

“He probably hasn’t tried because crime rates skyrocket before Halloween,” Clem retorted. “Which is, might I add, six days away! On a weekday that I still have class, because _that_ makes sense. It’s just begging for Joker to show up.”

“He’s in Arkham right now, isn’t he? Bat Watch hasn’t said anything and they usually talk about him.”

“Maybe usually, but not for Arkham breakouts. They never talk about those unless _everyone_ breaks out." Clementine focused on the cards, her eyes narrowed as she scanned them. "Okay, uh, Marquis...is pro-choice. Talks about personhood." She picked up the card and flipped it over. "Shit." She glowered at the card. "Then who am I thinking of?" She grabbed the cards and started rifling through them again.

Alice tipped her head to look at the cards. “I contacted Mr. Wayne about Damian’s schedule,” she said. “We’ll be able to get to work once we have that.”

"Awesome. Hold on, I think I’m missing a card." Clementine scooted out of her seat and started rummaging through her backpack. "I think you should talk to Hood," she said from beneath the table. "At the very least say you hope he doesn't, like, get killed."

Alice sighed, pulling out the phone and frowning at it. "I don't know, Clem. I don't like..." Alice rubbed her forehead, trying to find the words. "You know how I feel about this kind of thing. Why I avoid it." The chat on her normal phone would have helped her point, but Alice couldn’t exactly use it as evidence when her last glance had shown a detailed explanation of how Dr. Fate’s powers worked.

"Do you think your thing for Hood will go anywhere?" Clementine sat back to look at Alice. "For all you know, it could be some sort of 'oh no he's hot' combined with hero worship.” She paused. “Okay, maybe you're not the hero worship type, but it's different to see a hero and to have the hero save you. And then show up at your house. And give you a phone. And keep showing up at your house."

She ducked her head to rummage in her bag again, humming to herself.

Alice studied the phone in her hands. "Check the side pockets, too," she said absently, then sighed and opened a chat with Hood.

Alice (11:34)

Hi. Hope you don’t die over Halloween.

“Okay,” she said. “I sent him a message.”

"What'd you say?" Clementine lifted her head and smacked it against the table, making her yip and duck again, rubbing her head with a pout.

"Hi, hope you don't die over Halloween," Alice read.

Clementine lifted her head properly, setting her chin on the table to stare at Alice. "When I said that you should say that, I wasn't serious," she told Alice solemnly.

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"Because you don't tell people that you hope they don't die!"

"You do when they’re superheroes!"

The bell over the door rang, which, ordinarily, was inaudible. When the entire restaurant was silent for the moment it took for the ring to stop, though, it attracted attention. Alice and Clementine both looked at the door. The man in the purple and green suit beamed back at the café’s occupants, twirling his cane by the curved hook.

"Hello, Gothamites!" he said happily. For once, he was not in the tight, question mark covered outfit that Alice was most familiar with. His tie had a question mark on it, as did his hat, but aside from the signature question mark shaped cane, that was all. The two goons behind him _were_ covered in question marks, but Alice decided to avoid looking at them when they were in skin tight outfits and definitely not pulling it off as well as Nightwing or Red Robin. Riddler looked around the room and tutted. "When someone says hello, you're supposed to greet them back!" he scolded.

And then he pulled a gun. It was shaped oddly, probably like a question mark to fit his theme. It was a definite level of escalation that wasn't quite deserved, but, hey, it was Gotham. "Now, say hello!"

Alice and Clementine looked at each other. When the rest of the customers spoke the ordered word, their mouths moved along with it. Clementine's gaze dropped to the batphone, open to Hood’s chat, still in Alice's hand. Alice nodded, carefully tapping the button to attach a picture to the message. Riddler was facing the other side of the room. Alice adjusted the phone for an appropriate angle and took a photo. She quickly withdrew the phone and hit send.

Clementine, back in her chair, squeaked, and Alice looked up to see Riddler beaming at them. Damn.

"Naught, naughty," he said, tutting even as he grinned. "Taking pictures? That's not allowed."

And Alice, in what was apparently her fallback plan, asked, "Do you want to be in a movie?"

Clementine squeaked again, but that time it had an indignant note that probably had to do with the time she'd tried to get Poison Ivy's number and Alice and Drake sat on her until Ivy was out of sight.

Riddler chortled. "A movie? Why, I'm the star of my own show!"

"But you're not in a movie, and it never hurts to have a few more to the cast. Why do you think I was taking the picture? You'd make a great Riddler. Are you a cosplayer?"

Riddler's smile faltered and he blinked rapidly.

"I mean, the gun is a little much," Alice babbled, watching Clementine's hand rise toward one ear out of the corner of her eye, "but it never hurts to throw in an extra dash of style. Maybe the Riddler can be a gun guy! Who needs some old cane? Want to take a look at my script? I have one around here somewhere. Don't mind the flashcards, we have class soon. We're students, see, at GU." Alice grabbed the pen on the table, trying to keep track of what she was doing. What was she doing, again? "Here, I can give you my contact information, and if you're interested in having a part in the movie you can send me a message, or a call, either is fine." She held out a hand expectantly.

One of the goons was looking doubtfully at the other. The other had a face that suggested his brain was hurting. Riddler, too, looked baffled.

"You're a funny one," he said after a moment, his smile sharp. "Here, I'll be in your show, if! You can answer a riddle."

"Of course!" Alice said. "You'd have to be able to come up with some good riddles to act as the Riddler."

Clementine's hand was a loose fist on the table, metal shining between her fingers.

"Of course," Riddler replied, silky smooth, the gun hanging at his side. "Now. Why...is an orange like a bell?"

"They both have the letter E," Alice replied immediately, even though that was most definitely not the right answer. It was better than her first thought about both being Green Lantern’s weakness. Bells didn’t even fit into the occasion. Would he be weak to gold? A thought for later.

"And they can both be peeled," Clementine added, which probably was the right answer.

"Which makes an interesting point," Alice continued off of Clem's statement, "because pealed and peeled have a difference of one E."

In the following beat of silence, Clem said, "She's a Ravenclaw."

Then, with excellent timing, Nightwing flipped through the window, bounced to his feet, and kicked Riddler in the head. Riddler went down, dropping both his gun and his cane. Red Hood dropped from the ceiling, apparently out of nowhere because the ceiling had no windows and was flat, and landed on top of one of the goons, and Nightwing downed the other with another foot to the face.

Both heroes turned to them, Nightwing grinning in a Joker-esque fashion and Hood unreadable given his bucket. "Are you hurt, civilians?" Nightwing asked in a peculiarly deep voice, and Clementine made a sharply amused noise and nodded.

"Where did you come from?" Alice asked Red Hood, looking again at the ceiling.

"Back door."

"How normal." She collected the flashcards and settled them into a proper stack.

"Better than flippy McGuinness."

"Sound byte!" Clementine announced, and Alice and Hood both turned to see that she had thrust her phone into Nightwing's face. "If Alice keeps forgetting, I'll get it now!"

"I take back everything I said about you being forceful," Hood muttered to Alice.

"I don't think you've said anything."

"Not to your face."

She stepped on his foot and looked away when he jolted and swiveled toward her. "Clem, don't forget to put your earring back on when you go to class."

Clementine grabbed the tiny metal samurai from the table, easily clipping it to her earring with one hand. She didn't take her eyes off of Nightwing, whose lips were twitching upward.

"Oh fuck!" Clementine suddenly shouted, which Alice took to mean she'd finally noticed the time. Alice handed her the flashcards and Clementine tripped her way out of the chair, grabbed her bag, and bolted.

Red Hood and Nightwing looked at Alice.

"She has class." Alice picked up her own bag, climbing to her feet. She faced Hood and added, "I'm making spaghetti tonight, by the way, so bring cheese." She grabbed Clementine's used cup along with her own, weaving by the two to deposit both in the trash, then walked out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious; what Hogwarts houses would you readers go with for my OCs and my interpretations of assorted Bats (as many or as few as you please)? Or with me, from what you can determine through my writing and end notes?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired partially by: https://raptorific.tumblr.com/post/140900606441/bruce-wayne-maintains-a-presence-on-all-conspiracy


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